Parallax
by K.S. Reynard
Summary: Set four years after the Anglar Blitz. A secretive task from a clandestine Cornerian intelligence agency leads to an alarming discovery capable of altering the future of more than one universe. Reality may be nothing more than a persistent illusion, but whose reality is it to begin with? When all is made clear, nothing will ever be perceived the same way again. AU - or is it?
1. Introduction - Closure

⓿ **Closure **⓿

"_Every day, the world around me feels colder – not that I am able to see it for myself. I don't even know how long it's been since _they _took me and made me subject to their heinous schemes. All I have been able to understand is that I am being used for some kind of 'research' as they call it. I can't see, I can't hear, and I can barely feel anything. I know that I'm inside something – a container, possibly – but my mind feels so weak that I can't be certain of anything. Part of me believes that this is all a dream and that I'll wake up eventually. The problem is that I can't remember ever falling asleep to begin with. What's more, I feel like I'm losing control of my thoughts, like they're traveling…elsewhere? I don't understand any of it. I can no longer remember how I came to this point. It's all becoming one formless blur that holds nothing except confusion and despair. I want so badly to be set free from this madness, but I fear that I will be trapped in this place until _they_ are finished with whatever they're doing with me. Can anyone hear me? Please – help me if you can. I can't go on like this. If this continues, I fear that I will cease to be myself."_

* * *

_- _§_ -_

* * *

The constant beeping of the heart monitor kept the hospital room from becoming completely silent, but the noise level still remained so low that the repeated chirps barely registered in the blue vixen's ears as she rested. Whatever breath she had left in her lungs came out with barely a whisper, and in her pain, she refused to open her eyes—not as if there would have been anything for her to see if she had. Neither she nor the doctors responsible for caring for her could find any causes for her illness, which she had contracted without warning and seemingly without cause. The off chance that her Cerinian bloodline contained a disease that Cornerian medical experts knew nothing about also factored into the analysis of her condition.

Even though the nurses and doctors who checked up on her every so often attempted to provide her with levity, she knew that she would likely not remain alive for much longer. The medication she had been given eased the pain of her illness, but it did nothing to help with the growing weakness that she felt. Even an act as simple as moving her arm had become painful and difficult; and it only seemed to worsen as time passed.

Even after the door to her room opened, Krystal refused to open her eyes and instead used her weakening mental abilities to identify the person who had stepped in. A cursory glance at her visitor's thought patterns confirmed him as Dr. Silas, a thin wolfhound who had been the first to see her after her initial admission to Corneria's largest critical care center. His light, regimented footsteps grew louder in her ears as he approached her bedside before dropping into a wheeled chair next to the machine responsible for measuring her heart rate.

Before Dr. Silas could speak, Krystal faintly asked, "How much longer do I have?"

The canine's voice returned to her with a pained, sorrowful tone. "Maybe two days, maybe only one. If I'm perfectly honest with you, the odds of you living through your illness would require nothing short of a miracle far beyond the reach of medicine or surgery. Listen, Krystal—I'm sorry; but there is nothing I can do to help you. Your illness just isn't matching up with anything on record. In fact, the only reason you haven't been quarantined is because it doesn't seem to be contagious."

Krystal sighed and kept her eyes locked shut. "At least I won't have to die alone, then."

"I never know what to tell people what to think when they find themselves in situations like yours," Dr. Silas muttered. "At any rate, the main reason I came to check up on you was to let you know that your husband will be up to see you in a few minutes. Based on your life signs, I don't think he'll leave the building once he gets here."

For a brief moment, Krystal forced her eyes open and whispered, "That's the way I've always wanted it. I never wanted to be without him. If the last thing I see in this life is him, I know I'll be able to die in peace."

Dr. Silas frowned and replied, "Rest well, Krystal. Fox will be here any minute. When he steps in, I'll leave you two alone. There's nothing that I can do to help you anymore."

"Thank you," whispered the dying vixen.

* * *

_- _§_ -_

* * *

Far below the surface of the earth, two white-garbed researchers walked through the otherwise-empty halls of a subterranean facility comprised of equal parts reflective, bombproof metal and solid rock from the planet Macbeth's crust. Several white panel lights cast a faint amount of luminescence into the otherwise stark hallway, which featured a large natural 'window' in the rocky cliff that made up the right half of the corridor. Through the gap, a powerful waterfall cascaded downwards, misting the hallway but not inundating it.

Both of the two researchers wore identical white lab coats with the telltale monkey head emblem formerly attributed to Andross's legions printed on their chest pockets. However, the symbol meant more as a sign of opposition to the Cornerian Federation than anything else now that the Venomian leader had ceased to exist. Ten years had passed since the end of the cataclysmic Lylat War; and although Venom and her allies had agreed to a Cornerian-proposed ceasefire, the enigmatic empire still existed, albeit in an underground, seemingly-haphazard manner that presented little to no threat to the Federation—at least it seemed that way.

Over the sound of the waterfall to his right, the first of the two researchers—a tall, middle-aged lupine who wore a set of square-rimmed glasses—glanced at his iguana counterpart and quietly asked, "How is _3_ doing? The last time I checked, we had an abnormal pulse reading."

The reptilian waved his hand and replied, "We attributed the high pulse reading to an elevated state of mental activity. That was to be expected at one point or another. _3_ will be fine. I must say though, the amount of lucid imagery that we've been able to retrieve as a result of the project is simply startling. I'm positive that the Doctor would have been most pleased if he was still around to see our work."

"Agreed," the lupine affirmed. "I never expected the project to go for as long as it has. It's at what now, fifteen years? The only thing that has me worried is that I don't think we'll be able to keep it up for much longer. What are we supposed to do if the induced reality breaks down?"

"If it happens before completion, terminate the program. It's not like you've actually seen _3_. You shouldn't feel bad about terminating an existence that's spent the vast majority of its days inside an induced coma. It will be painless, anyway. It's not like _3_ is going to suffer when we pull the plug on our operation and move onto a new project."

The lupine frowned and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I don't like that. You know, _3 _had a life at one point. I'm sure it has some usefulness left in it. If I remember correctly, the Parallax project was designed as a way to train soldiers, technicians, and advanced tradesmen through entirely virtual means; not just as a system to collect visual information created in a constant state of comatose lucidity."

"True, but that brings me to another point."

"What's that?"

The iguana frowned and answered, "The Cornerians are getting closer to discovering our operation. We cannot allow our research to fall into their hands. Last week, we caught a mole working for the Cornerian DIS trying to get into this facility. We took him out before he could report anything, but if nothing else, it was a warning for us to enact a contingency plan to prevent our enemies from profiting from the remnants of Andross's research. They're getting closer to figuring out what we're up to. That's why we brought a platoon of mercenary soldiers down here last week."

"That doesn't bode well. If that's the case, we should suggest that the supervisor order a relocation to one of our other bases of operation," the wolf suggested.

"Yes, but it will take time—time that we might not have," the iguana replied. "Besides, it's been the director's top priority to progress as far as possible on _3's_ personality integration. We're very close to succeeding—92% according to our interfaces. If we can reach completion, we will have proved that it is possible to implant a persona in a foreign mind. The possibilities are endless after that point. If this research becomes mainstream, it will bring countless amounts of foreign money to the Macbeth Alliance from both corporate and military interests. Not only that, but it will also allow Venom and Macbeth to declare their independence from the slavery of the Cornerian Federation."

The lupine held up his hand and muttered, "Listen, Dr. Horace—the problem is that our research is in clear violation of the Individual Rights Statute drawn up by Lylat United more than twenty years ago. I don't care how effective the results of our research could be. It's unrealistic because nobody is going to want to invest in a new technology that would put them at risk of governmental prosecution over universal rights violations."

"I'll admit that it is illegal, but if you remember, this research is being backed by the Ottoman Corporation and RedSource. If we succeed in our efforts, they will take care of its commercial implementation," the lizard retorted.

For a moment, the wolf held his tongue. Then he shook his head and muttered, "Maybe. But I don't like the direction this seems to be heading in. I'm not saying that we need to terminate the program, but I don't think that violating universal rights for the sake of corporate interests is a wise decision."

"You are entitled to your opinion, doctor," the lizard hissed. "In the end, we will see who is right. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to check up on _3. _If I'm not mistaken, the final stage of the mental process is almost ready to be executed."

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

_Alright, I'm back after my_ _brief_ Oasis _completion sabbatical. Funny thing is that I made two suggestions for what I would likely do after I started writing again - and then I completely ignored both of them. Unfortunately, as interested as I was - and still am - in writing the humorous Star Wolf story that I had in mind, my writing muse will simply not allow it. The reality about _Parallax _is that I've actually had the idea in my mind for over six months, and now is the first time I've been able to put the ideas together into one cohesive unit. _

_If this story becomes confusing, just go with it. It's supposed to be like that. You can rest assured knowing that it will make sense eventually. Hopefully, it'll turn out well.  
_

_On another note, I'm going to try to start curtailing or outright eliminating my author's notes, as they are not usually necessary and are also far from professional. You didn't come here to read them, anyway._


	2. Awakening

❶ **Awakening **❶

"_My memory… for some reason, it keeps slipping. I think there was a time when I could recall everything that led me to this point, but I can't pull up anything now. I don't even know who I am anymore. This cluelessness, this meaningless existence – why has it come to this? If only there was something that would help me remember even the slightest detail about myself, I might stand a chance at getting out of this wretched place – assuming that I'm even alive. I'm fairly certain that I'm still alive, at least. At the very least, death would mean complete nonexistence, not being reduced to a mindless void who doesn't even know who they used to be. Am I thinking straight, or am I gone already? Please – somebody help me. There's nothing I can do to save myself now._

"_Please…help…"_

* * *

_- _§_ -_

* * *

Morning aboard the _Great Fox _could hardly be described as such, at least in normal, everyday terms. In space, the sun never rose or set. The stars always provided the same degree of light, and the only way to be certain of the time was to check with the ship's onboard chronological unit, which was calibrated to Corneria City Standard Time. Without a reliable day/night cycle to base his sleep off of, Fox often found himself forced to rely on electronic means to rouse himself.

This morning was different, though. Although he had not suffered from a lack of rest, he awakened twenty minutes before the time that he had programmed his bedside alarm to activate. Not wanting to have to deal with the unpleasant ringing sound once the clock reached the specified 0630 hours, he reached over to the nightstand on the left side of his bed before returning to his previous resting position. In the process, he nudged the vixen sleeping next to him and caused her to stir.

With a whimper suggesting that she had no desire to wake up, the sandy-furred fennec shifted beneath the covers and rolled onto her side to face Fox, who had placed his head back on his pillow.

"It's not time to get up already, is it?" she asked, squinting her eyes even though very little light filled the room.

In response, Fox reached over, draped his arm around the vixen's shoulder and whispered, "Not just yet, love. We still have twenty minutes until we need to be up."

Fara groaned at the mention of the time, although Fox understood the reason for her tiredness considering what the two of them had been doing during the late hours of the previous night. While Fox's mind began to clear after a well-earned night's sleep, Fara drifted back into unconsciousness. Before relapsing, she placed her arm on Fox's chest and sighed in a way that suggested that she felt both disappointed about having to leave the bed and in turn losing the feeling of her mate resting beside her. While Fara's breathing slowed down, Fox caressed her hand and ran his fingers over the ridge that marked the location of her diamond-encrusted wedding ring.

For Fox to say that he married up was nearly preposterous considering his fame and success as a mercenary leader, but as the heiress belonging to one of the Lylat System's wealthiest and most prestigious families, Fara far exceeded him in terms of influence and societal status. The fact that she was the first in line to inherit several billion credits worth of her family's fortune didn't hurt, either. The two vulpines had wed two years prior to the present date, and although the sheer passion the two of them initially shared had faded somewhat, their friendship had only deepened. In times past, Fox would have spurned the idea of marriage, especially if he was to remain in command of Star Fox. Now though, he realized that he had been mistaken. If anything, being married to a fellow teammate only knit the team closer together. With a solid – if somewhat sparse – mission base to draw from, the team of mercenaries found themselves in an enviable position that most mercenary crews could never hope to attain.

The minutes passed until Fox's alarm clock reached the dreaded 0630 hours, after which he nudged Fara and murmured, "Time to get up."

The fennec moaned in disappointment and slowly sat up in bed, the minimal light in the room revealing the eye patch she wore over her left eye. A casualty of the Aparoid War, it had become infected after an unexpected scuffle with a small Aparoid creature while defending Corneria City from the parasitic onslaught. As a result, no option remained apart from removing it and replacing it with a mechanical unit designed to resemble an eye patch. To the present day, Fara bemoaned the loss of her eye, as did Fox. Still, both of them knew that injuries, scars, and potential death awaited them on every sortie; and neither of them regretted their decision to take up their shared career.

Having showered the night before, Fox rolled out of bed and approached his dresser. While Fara forced herself to leave the comfort and warmth of her and Fox's bed, the vulpine pulled out the black and red flight suit that he had favored during the Aparoid War and dressed himself with it. He took a quick glance in the mirror and then turned to Fara, who still had not cleared the front right corner of the bed.

"Tired this morning?" he asked with a grin.

Fara feebly swatted the air in front of her and growled, "Man, I have a splitting headache. Next time you want to get frisky with me, try to make sure it's before two in the morning. I hope Slippy bothered to make coffee this morning, because I'm going to need it."

"Sorry, I couldn't resist myself," Fox smirked.

Shaking her head, Fara replied, "Same here. Anyway, you should go to the bridge without me. I'll catch up later. I think I'm going to need a shower to wake up."

"Okay, love," said Fox, walking over to Fara and planting a quick kiss on her lips. "I'll let you know if anyone left a message for the team."

"Thanks," Fara muttered in response. "Man, I just want to go back to bed."

"Maybe you should ask Falco if you can have one of his energy drinks. Some people say they give you wings."

Fara cringed and shook her head. "Please no. Those things are disgusting. It's like drinking battery acid."

"Are you saying that you have experience with that?"

"No, Fox. It's just a figure of speech," Fara growled, walking into the bathroom and turning on the shower.

Smiling, Fox stepped out of the bedroom and entered the _Great Fox's _empty main corridor. Considering that the rest of the team struggled to report to the bridge punctually – except for Slippy, of course – he found it to be completely empty. His boots created a haunting series of echoing reverberations on the metallic floor as he walked towards the ship's bridge. Unsurprisingly, the door to the piloting area hung open, meaning that either Peppy or Slippy had reached the bridge and reported for duty before him. Stepping into the bridge area and looking down towards the control area, he noticed Peppy reading a paperback biography of General Pepper's military career, while Slippy sat next to the ship's main holographic map which indicated that the _Great Fox _was roughly halfway between Corneria and Aquas.

Neither of the two seemed to notice Fox's presence until he descended the short set of stairs to the bridge's lower level and asked, "How long have you two been here?"

Startled by Fox's entrance, Peppy placed his book on the control panel next to him and replied, "Er…I've been here for about twenty minutes. Slippy was here before I came in, though."

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep last night," Slippy explained. "Something about the engine thrust balancing system hasn't been acting right lately. I've been concerned about it, and it's been making it hard for me to get any rest."

Fox shook his head and replied, "You two never change. So, is there anything to report? Anything new?"

"As a matter of fact, yes - although I'm not feeling too sure about it," said Peppy.

"What do you mean?"

The old hare leaned forward in his chair and answered, "It seems like the director of the Cornerian Department of Internal Security has offered us an invitation."

Fox frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. Raising his hand to his muzzle, he stroked it and muttered, "I don't like this. I've made it a point to avoid the DIS as much as possible. It seems like all their independent contractors end up either dying or having their reputations smeared. Not to mention that some of their practices aren't exactly legal."

"Well, we can choose to say 'no' if we want. It's not like they're forcing us to do anything," Peppy replied.

"Still, you've made me curious. What are we being offered?"

Peppy pushed himself out of his chair and stood up. "Nothing yet. The director has requested that you reply to his invitation before he explains anything else. I have a feeling that it's about something too sensitive to talk about over a vulnerable long-distance communications line."

"Sounds likely. In that case, I'll wait until the rest of the team is here before I reply," Fox responded, crossing his arms and glancing out the ship's front windows at the near-infinite sea of stars ahead of them.

Several minutes passed before Fara entered the bridge, wearing a green flightsuit with a white utility vest covering her upper body. Giving Peppy and Slippy a brief nod, she came to Fox's side and kissed him on the cheek before she directed her eyes towards the galley near the back of the bridge and headed towards it. It took Fox very little for him to realize her caffeine-fueled intentions; and his supposition proved to be correct when the fennec reentered the bridge holding a cup of steaming black coffee in her hand.

Carefully walking down the stairs to the area where her husband stood, she glanced at the team's amphibian mechanic and said, "Once again, thanks for making the coffee, Slip,"

"Not a problem, Fara. You know I can't function without at least two cups of that stuff," Slippy replied before redirecting his eyes to a technical readout on his wrist interface.

Fara took a sip of the coffee, then asked Fox, "So, is there anything available today, or is this going to be another one of those days where you and Falco play your stupid video games for six hours straight?"

Fox laughed in response to Fara's snide question and replied, "I don't think it's going to be one of those days. We've got something available, but the only thing is that I don't feel too sure about it."

Fara tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"It's an offer from the DIS supervisor."

"Oh…" Fara murmured. "I see. You're not sure you want to get yourself involved with them, am I right?

"Right. I'm not sure it would be good for our publicity if we took a job from Corneria's most disliked and distrusted agency. On the other hand, there might be some good money in it."

"The money is always right," came a voice from the back of the bridge. Startled, Fox glanced at the area where the voice had originated from and noticed Falco standing next to Miyu Lynx, the final member of the team. While Falco wore a rough blue jacket and navy blue pants, the feline next to him had chosen an even less formal outfit consisting of a white tank top and a pair of snug-fitting camouflage-patterned cargo pants.

Fox's expression softened. "Ah, good morning, Falco. You too, Miyu."

"Good morning Fo…" Miyu attempted to force a reply, but she found her words cut off by an exaggerated feline yawn that caused both Fara and Fox to chuckle.

"I take it you didn't sleep well last night," Fox hinted.

Miyu shook her head in response and replied, "Nope. This 0630 wakeup time is murder."

"Well, there's coffee in the galley back there. Drink it if you need it."

The lynx twisted her face into an unsightly grimace and growled, "Yuck. No thanks. Falco, do you think you could spare another one of your energy drinks?"

Falco glanced upwards, placing his wing under his beak to give the illusion of deep thought. "Hmm…" he grunted, "That all depends. I only have three cans left, and if you take one now and I run out before we get the chance to hit up a grocery store, I'm going to make you fly out and get more for me. If you do, you'll also have to pay for your Arwing's fuel, of course."

"Dammit – Falco, please?"

"Hey, I didn't say you couldn't have one. I was just warning you about what's going to happen if I run out because you didn't buy enough of your own the last time we stopped to get groceries."

Miyu sighed and fixed her lips into a scowl before she trudged into the galley and retrieved one of Falco's energy drinks from the ship's refrigerator. Cracking open the red and black can, she returned to her position next to Falco and took a sip. For a moment, her entire body twitched in response to the combination of caffeine and abnormally high levels of vitamin b12. Then, all returned to normal.

Fox shook his head in response to Miyu and then raised his voice to speak to the entire group that had congregated in the bridge area. "Good morning, team. According to Peppy and Slippy, we've been given an invitation to meet with the Director of the Cornerian Department of Internal Security. It's not an official mission yet, but it might lead somewhere. To be honest, I'm not entirely comfortable with this, but I still think it's worth looking into."

"It's not like we've had any jobs lately," Miyu opined. "What's the worst that could happen anyway? If we don't like what we're being offered, we can turn it down and leave someone else to do it."

Fox frowned and replied, "This is the DIS, you know. We're not on a first name basis with their leadership like we are with Pepper and the CDF. Keep in mind that we're dealing with an intelligence agency, not the military."

Falco placed his hand on his hip and muttered, "That's kind of strange. Why would those spooks want our help with anything? Don't they have their own special units to take care of their problems?"

"I was thinking the same thing," Fox agreed. "I guess we won't know anything until we listen to what the DIS Supervisor has to say to us. Slippy, patch him in if you can."

Slippy stood up from his chair and pressed a series of buttons on the holoprojector in front of him. For a moment, the only sound that filled the bridge was the faint mechanical whir of the projection unit. Then, the transmission connected, revealing the face and upper body of a large, imposing panda wearing a dark gray officer's uniform. Recognizing the Star Fox team from his side of the communications channel, he addressed them in a sober voice devoid of emotion. "Good morning, team. Thank you for getting back to me so quickly."

Fox turned to face the holoprojector and replied, "Good morning, sir. First things first, I need to ask why you contacted us in the first place. We've never worked with your agency before."

"That's correct," said the panda. "The reason I've reached out to you is a bit complicated. Simply put, I need your services for a task that I cannot afford to assign to government personnel. There's more to it, but I can't risk putting it out there on a line that could very easily be tapped by our enemies. If you're interested in what I have to offer, I'll arrange for an in-person meeting on Corneria."

Fox looked at Falco, Fara, and Miyu out of the corner of his eye and betrayed a wary expression. Then, he redirected his eyes to the holographic image of the DIS Supervisor and asked him, "How much are you willing to pay us for our services?"

The supervisor scratched his muzzle for several seconds, pondering his contact's question before he placed both hands on his desk and answered, "I can't offer you anything solid at the moment, but I can promise you that it will be worth your while."

Fox crossed his arms. "I'm going to need to know more than just that, sir."

"Here's what it comes down to, then," the supervisor sighed. "For reasons that I cannot disclose at this time, I can't pay you in credits. Almost any other form of currency – recognized or not – I can do. That includes armaments, vehicles, or even property."

"Not bad," Falco hinted from the elevated bridge entry that stood above the main floor.

Miming his avian teammate, Fox nodded in approval and replied, "Now you've got my attention. How can we arrange for the meeting with you?"

The supervisor opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a dossier, which he flipped through until he located the piece of information that he had been looking for. "How soon can you dock your ship on Corneria and make it to the planet's surface?"

Not knowing the answer, Fox hinted for Slippy to explain the travel details to the supervisor, which he did. "We can be planetside in roughly four hours, sir."

The panda allowed a faint smile to appear on his muzzle. "Very good. I'll set up the meeting for twelve noon, then. I'm afraid that I can't give you the specifics on the location. Don't worry though – my men will make sure you arrive there without any problems. Oh, I forgot – there's one more thing: only two of you will be permitted to meet with me. Captain McCloud, you're the leader, so I'll let you decide who you bring based on your analysis of the situation."

Feeling uncertain of the supervisor's demands, Fox turned away from the holoprojector and ran his eyes over the rest of his team, staring with Fara, then Miyu, Falco, and finally Slippy. _"I'm not sure I like this," _he whispered into Fara's ear.

"I say go for it. If it helps, I'll be the one to go with you," she replied, placing a hand on her mate's shoulder.

Fox nodded and looked into the holographically-represented panda's eyes. "Alright. I'll accept those terms. Where do you want your men to meet us?"

Folding his hands, the Director replied, "In the event that you accepted this offer, I reserved a private hangar in the Corneria City military complex for your use. The number for this hangar is 3A. By the time you arrive, I'll have cleared your name for landing and you should be able to put down without any problems. My men will be waiting for your arrival. Don't worry – you won't have any problems with identifying them."

"3A. Got it."

"I apologize for giving you and your team such sparse information, but it is unfortunately necessary. Once you and I are in a secure location, we can begin to discuss the specifics of my offer. Until then, I'll be keeping the details to a minimum."

"Understood, sir. We'll see you when we get to Corneria," Fox replied.

The Director smiled. "Very good. I promise you that this will not be a waste of your time. Director Ling, out." With that, the holographic projection faded out, leaving Star Fox to themselves.

Wasting no time in voicing his opinion, Falco spoke out. "He's only going to let two of you meet with him? What's with that?"

Opening his hands and shaking his head, Fox replied, "These guys in intelligence – they're sketchy, or so I hear. I don't think that guy trusts having our entire team meet with him, so he decided to limit it to me and one other person."

"I take it that would be Big Ears," the avian remarked, exuding a mild amount of disapproval.

"That's correct," Fox replied. "And please don't call her that. She really hates that nickname."

Falco threw up his hands in defeat. "Oh sure. Fine, whatever."

Feeling her frustration coming to the surface, Fara placed her hands on her hips and growled, "Falco, that's ridiculous. Stop acting like a five-year-old already. This isn't even something worth getting upset about."

The vixen's point seemed to affect Falco, who bit his tongue and fell back into his normal, relaxed posture next to Miyu, who took another sip of Falco's punch-flavored energy drink and twitched again.

Pretending not to notice his feline teammate's exaggerated caffeine reaction, Fox directed his attention to Peppy, who remained seated behind him. "We'd better make arrangements for a dry-dock over Corneria. We'll use our Arwings to reach the planet's surface. I don't think the hangar the Supervisor gave us is going to be large enough to house the _Great Fox._"

"It's doubtful," Peppy concurred. "I'll get to work on that. Slippy, go ahead and chart a course to Corneria. I'll handle the rest."

"Got it," the frog replied, standing up and walking to the front of the bridge, which housed the majority of the ship's main functions. While the rest of the team made their way to the various seats positioned throughout the bridge, Slippy seated himself in the pilot's chair and began tapping numerous buttons that only he and Peppy knew how to use. As he watched the amphibian's fingers fly across the myriad switches and controls, Fox mentally chided himself for not having bothered to learn the ins and outs of the third variant of the ship that his father had entrusted him with. Still, he reasoned that as a pilot and solider as opposed to a mechanic like Sippy, he had the right to remain oblivious to the ship's more oblique functions.

After a momentary lull in activity, the _Great Fox_ lurched forwards, gaining speed rapidly until the stars ahead of them began to appear as white streaks in the team's vision. The force of the dreadnaught's acceleration pushed them back into their seats until the vessel reached its terminal superluminal speed. With the lightdrive jump completed, Fox unbuckled his seatbelt, followed by the rest of the team. While Falco and Miyu departed from the bridge area, Fox and Fara stayed behind with Slippy and Peppy, who began arranging for the authorization to use a Cornerian dry-dock.

Several monotonous hours passed until the _Great Fox _reached its destination and pulled out of superluminal. Far ahead in the distance, the outline of a large Cornerian space station made itself known to Fox, Fara, Slippy, and Peppy. The station marked the dreadnaught's docking location, and the significant amount of space traffic surrounding it identified it as one of the largest and busiest spaceports in the Lylat System.

Knowing that Peppy had arranged for a docking station in the oversized space structure and had far more experience piloting the _Great Fox_ than he did, Slippy surrendered the main pilot's seat to Peppy, who awkwardly dropped into it next to ROB. Thankfully, the robot did not laugh at his clumsiness as the hare fidgeted in the seat in an attempt to make himself more comfortable.

Slippy walked over to Peppy's previously-held seat and sat down in it before the voice of the space station's operator resounded through the bridge speakers. _"_Great Fox_, you are cleared to land in the oversized dock, number 8. Please confirm."_

"Confirmed, Spaceport Control," Peppy replied. "Send a refueling and maintenance crew down to the hangar if you can."

"Affirmative, _Great Fox_. Crews will be awaiting your arrival. Maintain your current course and follow any special instructions if we need to give you any. For the next ten minutes, all space traffic around Dock 8 will be ordered to clear the area for your arrival. I cannot emphasize this enough—don't try to rush the landing."

Peppy dismissively waved his hand in response, even though he had no one to visually interact with. "Relax, Control. I've done this before."

Closing the transmission channel, Peppy swiveled his chair to the side and motioned for Fox and Fara's attention. "Hey you two, I think now would be the best time for you to launch your Arwings and head down to the planet's surface. If you need anything from me, call my personal comms unit."

"Got it, Peppy," Fox replied before placing a hand on Fara's shoulder and asking her, "Are you ready for this?"

Fara smiled and answered, "Of course, Fox. I think you're making more out of this than there is, anyway."

"Maybe, but I don't want to overlook the possibility that there _is_ more to it."

"You make a good point," Fara admitted.

While Peppy continued his approach to the oversized dock, the two vulpines made their way through the _Great Fox's_ main hall until they reached the hangar entrance, marked by a heavy sliding door that opened for them after Fox swiped the keypad to its right. Inside the spacious hangar, the team's six Arwings – including Peppy's, even though he rarely used it – hung from the ceiling, suspended by a series of mechanical arms responsible for guiding them out of the hangar after launch. For the most part, the fighters looked to be in generally good condition, although the Arwings belonging to Miyu and Slippy showed noticeably more wear than the others. Fox assumed this was the case because of Miyu's daring tendencies in the cockpit, while the wear on Slippy's fighter originated from the frog's less-than-stellar combat skills. This was not to say that Slippy was a bad pilot – rather, it was more likely because he feared space combat more than the rest of the team did.

Fox approached the first of the six Arwings and climbed into the opened cockpit while Fara claimed the fighter to the right of his. Shutting the canopy over himself, he primed the fighter's engines and ran the required pre-flight checks before igniting the rear-mounted powerplant. The engine quietly whirred to life, reminding Fox that the SFX Arwing was known for having the quietest and most efficient fighter engine available to the Cornerian Defense Forces even though it saw very limited use due to its high initial cost.

Activating his onboard communications relay, he checked the system by asking Fara, "Are you all set?"

"Everything's working correctly. Launch when you're ready," the fennec replied.

"Copy that." Fox hovered his finger over the green tab on his flight interface that read 'LAUNCH' and then pressed it. One second later, the mechanical arm holding the Arwing in place began to move forward, steadily increasing speed until it had reached the fighter's cruising speed. Then, the arm released Fox's craft and spat it out of the hangar. To release his wings, Fox performed a single aileron roll and took a deep breath as Fara's Arwing came alongside his.

Feeling no need to explain what his fiancée already knew, Fox entered the coordinates for the Corneria City military base into his navigation interface. A yellow guide arrow soon appeared on his canopy's HUD, indicating the location of his destination on the planet below. A cursory glance around the space surround the orbital station revealed a plethora of satellites, orbiting space vessels, and other geostationary installations similar to the one that would house the _Great Fox_ for the time being.

The looming world of Corneria drew closer as Fox and Fara began their descent towards the planet's surface, with the large mainland area acting as their destination. After a quick and tumultuous pass through the mesosphere, the two Arwings reached the upper stratosphere. Even from the extreme height, the highest pinnacles of the main Cornerian metropolis could still be faintly seen. Very few clouds floated through the sky on the warm July day that was expected to reach over thirty degrees Celsius.

As the two foxes approached the outskirts of Corneria City, the air traffic increased, although not to an unbearable degree. Fox's yellow navigation arrow continued to point him in the direction of the military base, which soon appeared in the distance. The appearance of the large landing area preceded a transmission from the base itself. Both Fox and Fara's communications interfaces chirped in response to an incoming transmission, which came from one of the base's canine air traffic controllers.

"Star Fox 1 and 2, we have a reservation for you in hangar 3A. Confirm this by continuing on your current course."

"Affirmative," Fox replied.

With Fox and Fara's intent to land confirmed, the communication channel cut out. Below the two Arwings, numerous military vehicles raced across the sprawling concrete pad, which occupied the space belonging to more than twenty hangars, over one hundred small fighters, a smattering of gunships, transports, and even a small number of starborne frigates not currently in use. Although the cluttered area offered very little help in the way of navigation, Fox's guide arrow altered itself to point straight downwards at the hangar which the DIS supervisor had reserved for them.

The hangar roof had been left open in anticipation of Fox and Fara's arrival; and as the two pilots lowered their engines' output and lowered their fighters into the hangar space, they noticed two gray-cloaked figures standing in front of the building, next to a black SUV that lacked any kind of identifying marks.

As the two Arwings touched down on the dark concrete hangar surface, the roof closed over them. The light level in the area dropped, leaving only the opened front door panels as a channel for the Cornerian sunlight to enter the otherwise dark area. Shutting off his engine, Fox opened his canopy, unbuckled his seat belt, and climbed out of his Arwing. The sharp clap of his boots against the hangar floor was mirrored by Fara as she did the same. Without a word, the two foxes stepped towards the opened front of the hangar, where the two uniformed figures stood. The man on the left passed as a large Doberman, while the uniformed individual to his right had a feline build with dark gray fur that matched his uniform.

As Fox and Fara neared them, the canine of the two spoke up and pointed towards the large SUV to his left. "Here to see the Supervisor? Get in the back. We'll handle the rest."

Fox nodded in assent and escorted Fara to the SUV's back door, which the gray feline opened for them. Climbing into the surprisingly well-appointed cabin, both vulpines noticed that an opaque partition separated the front seat from the back. In addition, the rear and side windows possessed a thick tint that prevented them from seeing anything outside. After the two had seated themselves and the feline had closed the back door, the only illumination that filled the back seat came from the ceiling-mounted utility light. Fox quickly deduced the reason for the abnormal treatment, which amounted to the reality that they were not intended to know about their destination.

Shortly, the SUV's suspension vibrated as their two handlers stepped into the vehicle and closed their respective doors. The engine roared to life a moment later, followed by the first tire rotations as the black vehicle began to track across the concrete slab upon which the Corneria City military base rested.

With their vehicle on route to its destination, Fara glanced to her left at Fox and whispered, "Was this all really necessary? Is it that dangerous to know where we're going?"

"Something tells me that what the Supervisor has in mind for us is more serious than I thought it would be," Fox replied. "I still don't even know what he wants. I really hope this isn't some kind of trap."

Fara patted Fox on the shoulder and stated, "You're overthinking things. I can see where you're coming from, but there's probably a good reason for all this secrecy. Hopefully we'll get to the bottom of this soon."

"We'd better. I hate being left in the dark like this. Then there's the part about only the two of us being able to meet with the Supervisor. What's with that?"

Fara hesitated for a moment to collect her thoughts and then answered, "If what we're being asked to do involves some sensitive information, it might not have been the best idea to bring the whole team to the meeting. What they don't know can't hurt them, or so they say."

"Hmm," Fox sighed, languishing in his seat and resting his head on his hand as the SUV continued to close in on its unknown destination, weaving through the narrow, complex streets of downtown Corneria City.

More than ten minutes passed before the black vehicle took a sharp turn to the right and entered a structure that caused the exhaust note to change enough for Fox and Fara to realize that they had more than likely reached their destination. As a confirmation of this, the vehicle's driver slowed the SUV to a stop and opened his door before moving towards the back of the car and pulling Fox's door open for him. The feline co-driver did the same for Fara, who sat on the right.

The first aspect of the area that Fox noticed was that the room he stood in looked to be in a state of construction. Steel girders and i-beams crisscrossed the space above them, while rudimentary fluorescent tubes hung from the makeshift ceiling and provided the medium-sized room with a marginal amount of light. Contrasting the incomplete state of the room was the white floor, which looked like a recent addition that could not have been older than a week. Apart from him, his wife, and their two handlers, not a single soul stirred inside the building.

However, before Fox and Fara could give the room a thorough once-over, their two escorts motioned for them to follow their lead as they walked towards a glass-covered door on the left side of the room. The door led into a hallway that only looked marginally more complete than the area where the SUV had been parked, even though the walls remained bare of any kind of decorations. The Doberman and the gray cat led their two vulpine guests down the unadorned corridor until they reached the final door on the right, just before the hall concluded in an undignified dead end suggestive of a future elevator that still had yet to be installed.

Upon reaching the metal door, which had no glass viewport or similar window, the two handlers took up positions on both sides and silently motioned for Fox and Fara to enter the room. Before proceeding forwards, both foxes shot each other a concerned, yet determined glance. Fox prepared himself for the possibility of a set-up, while Fara began to wonder if her mate's misgivings about the mysterious mission had a foundation in reality.

Grasping the silver door handle and pushing the door open, Fox stepped into a small office in a state of incompletion that matched the rest of the building. On the back and left walls, even the uncovered insulation could be seen. No furnishings adorned the room apart from a well-worn silver desk that looked like it had been fished out of a landfill outside Corneria City. Behind the desk, the panda who had contacted Star Fox sat in a metal chair that looked disproportionately small compared to his enormous frame. Two identical chairs stood in front of the ramshackle desk; and Fox took the hint, seating himself in front of the Supervisor and silently hinting for Fara to do the same.

With his guests present and accounted for, the panda murmured, "I suppose I should introduce myself before we begin. My name is Xiao Ling, most commonly referred to as Supervisor Ling. As my title would suggest, I oversee the large-scale operations that the Department of Internal Security is responsible for. I'm aware that you might not have much knowledge about this organization, which is understandable. After all, if you don't know about us or our dealings, it means that we're doing our jobs correctly." The Supervisor cracked a dry smile, prompting both Fox and Fara to chuckle in a nervous, insincere fashion.

After an awkward silence, Fox spoke up and asked, "With all due respect, sir, why are we here, and why were only two of us allowed to meet with you?"

"There is a very good explanation for both questions," Ling replied, hinting about the seriousness of the situation with both his voice and facial expression. "The answer is that I cannot risk having the knowledge of our conversation leave this room. After running a personality profile on each of your team members, I determined that it would only be safe for two of you to meet here. As for the location, it is for the purpose of absolute secrecy. This building will be a state-sponsored information technology center when it is completed, but for now, it serves as an ideal cover for our discussion."

"Is it that serious?" asked Fara.

"Very much so. But there is another aspect to it that forced me to arrange for our meeting in a partially-constructed high-rise, and that is that I cannot allow any of the information I am about to give you to end up in Venom's intelligence database. At first, I and the other heads in the DIS believed that the Venomian data collection program lacked sophistication and did not pose a threat to Cornerian interests. However, the reality is that it is far more advanced than we first thought – possibly even superior to our own Information Collection and Exchange Database. That is why I could not describe the mission to you over a comm line. Chances are that the contents of the message could have been compromised. Recently, even our central control center has come under attack by hackers employed by the Venomian government. With that in mind, I knew I had to take precautions with what I am about to request of you."

Fox leaned forward in expectation. "And what would that be?"

The panda reached for a folder on the edge of his desk and opened it to reveal a stapled document that he briefly glanced over. "Are you familiar with Makaara? They've been in the news a bit lately."

"The terrorist group based on Titania?" Fara asked in response.

"Yes – so you're aware of them. The reason I brought them up is because they play an important role in what I'm proposing for you to do. Now, I assure you that you will not have any sort of actual contact with them, thankfully."

Fox narrowed his eyes and muttered, "What do you mean by that?"

"Before I explain myself, I need to also elaborate on the background for our plan. First off, it's important to know that diplomatic relations between the Cornerian Federation and the three planets most loyal to the Andross Agenda have been very stressed as of late. Venom, Macbeth, and Eledard never entered the Federation under good terms, and it doesn't look like any progress has been made since then. We're in a sort of cold war with those three systems as we speak. They're not willing to make a move militarily; but then again, neither are we. However, I am concerned that this could change very soon."

Taking a quick breath, Ling continued, "Two weeks ago, scans of the Echelon mountain range on Macbeth returned an abnormal, disruptive energy reading over the rumored location of an Andross-era subterranean base. The data didn't help to pinpoint what kind of energy it was exactly, so we entrusted one of our top agents with the task of uncovering the source of the mystery. Unfortunately, he was discovered and killed before we could learn anything other than the fact that the energy source was indeed coming from the aforementioned base. If Andross's remnant is developing lethal weaponry as I believe they are, this needs to be put to an end as quickly as possible. However, there is one catch; and this is where you – and Makaara – come in."

"Go on," Fox urged, tapping his foot on the ground.

"Sending Cornerian operatives to purposefully subvert Venomian operations would be a catalyst for war. As I said, we are relatively safe from that now; and I'd like to keep it that way. So having said that, the best way to subvert the issue is to send an unpaid, uncontracted unit to Macbeth, disguised as another group known to have hostilities to the Venomian cause. This is where your task begins. The plan is for you and your unit to land on Macbeth and assume the character of rogue Makaara operatives. We have all the clothing and weaponry you could possibly need to make yourselves look convincing. Once on the planet's surface, you'll meet up with a small detachment of the SPIRE mercenary group who will act as scouts for your approach to the base. The Venomians will doubtlessly have security measures set up in the mountains around the facility, and having scouting backup will greatly assist you in the mission. Once you get inside though, it'll be all up to you and your team. Dismantle and sabotage any kind of weaponry you find inside the base, and if possible, don't leave any survivors. It would be best if no one lived to report what happened to them."

"Sounds interesting," Fox stated, albeit somewhat flatly. "My question is 'how do you intend to pay us?' If we're not on a contract, who's to say that you won't shortchange us if we complete the operation?"

The Supervisor crossed his arms and replied, "Partially, you'll have to take me at my word, but I have also drawn up a written agreement that will remain in my personal folder until the mission is complete. After that, it will be destroyed." Pulling out said piece of paper, he placed it in front of Fox and Fara and spoke to Fox. "If this operation interests you, please sign your name on the black line as the leader of Star Fox. I promise you that I will compensate you for your services if you complete your objective."

"Alright then. I accept," he replied, reaching for a pen provided by the Supervisor and signing his name in the designated space. "Now, what's the next step?"

"The DIS will provide you with covert transportation to Macbeth, where you'll meet up with SPIRE in the mountain town of Silverhurst. They will have all of your Makaara replica gear and more detailed information on the mission. However, it should be stated that while they are able soldiers, they are not equipped for close quarters combat like what you will likely encounter in the base. They will only be able to provide support until you arrive at your destination."

"Noted. I guess this meeting's over now?" Fox suggested.

Supervisor Ling placed his hands on the table in front of him and replied, "Yes, it is. My men will take you back to your hangar, where a generic G61 transport will be waiting for you. Use it to travel to Macbeth without arousing any suspicions. I know it isn't the most inviting vehicle to use, but your mothership is far too noticeable; and its presence on Macbeth would raise too many questions. And of course, be careful."

"Will do, sir."


	3. Avalanche

❷ **Avalanche** ❷

"_My world has gone dark. I feel like I'm floating, even breathing underwater. I don't understand any of this. My body is giving me mixed messages, but my mind isn't telling me anything. I can't recall what happened yesterday, the day before that, or the day before that day. Reality seems to have become completely detached for me; and I desperately wish there was a way to bring it back into focus. I want to cry out – to scream at the top of my lungs, but my body won't respond to anything I tell it to do. I'm completely helpless. I don't even know how or why I'm alive. Am I even alive? My mind is on the verge of death, my body might as well be dead and gone, and even my spirit feels like it is being snuffed out. Can anyone hear me? _

"_Anyone? Please, rescue me."_

* * *

_- _§_ -_

* * *

The nondescript, ageing transport ship descended through the snowy winter skies of northern Macbeth en route to its destination outside a small hamlet in the imposing Echelon mountain range. Despite his piloting skills, Fox struggled to maintain control over the old vessel that Supervisor Ling had provided for the mission. Although he would have preferred to use the team's Arwings for transportation, he could not deny that using the unmarked Lylat Wars-era transport offered far more cover for the secretive operation.

Driving snow and sleet blocked Fox's visuals, forcing him to rely on his instruments and navigation system to reach the landing pad on the edge of the village where his two contacts awaited him. Before departing from the Supervisor's makeshift office, the panda had offered him a small amount of information on the scouting twosome who would be providing support for his team. From what the large panda had explained, the two members of the defunct Cornerian reconnaissance and scouting group SPIRE comprised a husband and wife duo who had vast experience with the climate of northern Macbeth. In addition, they held the supplies and gear that Star Fox needed for their operation. They also maintained a large house in the village of Silverhurst where the team intended to stay the night, which was already upon them. The low light combined with the wintry precipitation created a hostile atmosphere for Fox, who glanced at his navigation system and sighed in relief when he noticed that only five miles separated him from his destination.

The faint light from the village soon became visible to Fox. Cutting the thrust from the transport's engines, he began to descend in altitude as the ship's navigational beacon formed an 'X' over the landing pad outside a large wooden lodge with two stories. As the ship descended, the scope of Silverhurst came into view. Most of the buildings in the village were small and unimpressive apart from the aforementioned lodge and another sizeable building that functioned as the hamlet's tourist and equipment rental center. In general, very few individuals maintained a residence in the harsh northern Macbeth climate, leaving the area open mostly for tourists. In the harsh winter, however, the village became a veritable ghost town. Yet, it was in this silent village that their mission support awaited them.

Hovering over the landing site, Fox flicked the 'fasten seat belts' light, warning the rest of his team to secure themselves for the landing – although it was not as if serious injury awaited them if they failed to heed the bright red warning light. For several long seconds, the nondescript G61 transport descended towards the snow-covered landing pad outside the lodge at the edge of the village until it touched down with a subdued thump.

Cutting the ship's engines off, Fox unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up, feeling the blood flow returning to his legs for the first time in what felt like several hours. With no one else beside him in the pilot's area, he stepped into the main seating chamber, where the rest of the team milled about, zipping up their winter attire and preparing to taste the wintry onslaught outside. Their unhappy expressions hinted at their displeasure of having to step into the elements, especially considering that Falco, Slippy, and Fara in particular had severe aversions to cold weather. Fox knew that the forthcoming mission would prove to be difficult for the team as a whole because of this, but he refused to allow the knowledge to grate on him. He had a job to do, and the discontent of his fellow teammates would not stand in his way.

As he stepped out of the cockpit, the rest of the team glanced in his direction. "Hey, I know this weather sucks, but we'll only be in it for a few minutes tonight. Our contacts will have better winter gear for us, so it won't be this bad tomorrow."

"I hope so," Falco grunted. "You know that I can't take this weather. Too bad they couldn't have built this so-called secret base on Zoness."

Fox shook his head in response to his teammate and walked to the back of the ship, where the ramp controls awaited his fingertips. For a moment, he paused and took a quick breath before he pressed the button to lower the rear loading ramp. An immediate blast of icy air rocketed into the ship as a confirmation of the ramp's motion.

"_Damn, that's cold."_

Before walking down the ramp, he turned to face his team and motioned for them to follow him outside, which they did, albeit begrudgingly. The lodge that stood before them towered over the smaller buildings around it, although it could not stand up to the hulking pines that framed the small village and provided it with a natural perimeter. The exterior of the lodge seemed well-kept enough, although it was clear that the harsh winter weather prevented much from being done to it in the way of maintenance. Several small bushes dotted the white landscape, their tough, weather-resistant limbs holding up to the worst that the Macbeth winter could throw at them.

On the ground beneath the team's feet, thick, foot-deep snow covered the entire landscape, obscuring every path that the village had to offer. Every aspect of the locale suggested that it had been abandoned for several months. No vehicles existed in the immediate area apart from the team's own transport, and not a single footprint could be found in the snow.

"_What a terrible place to live. I can't say I blame them all for wanting to get out of here," _Fox thought to himself.

Glancing over his shoulder at the rest of the team, he ascended the wooden steps to the lodge's front porch and approached the imposing front door, which he knocked on. More than ten seconds passed without the faintest shadow of a response, causing him to knock again, this time much more aggressively. As before, no one answered the door, and no additional sound reached Fox's ears.

From the bottom of the stairs, Miyu inquired, "Is no one home? This is the place we were supposed to meet up with SPIRE, right?"

Fox turned away from the door and crossed his arms in frustration. "Yeah, it is. I don't know what to think about this. I don't have a number that I'm supposed to call or anything. They were supposed to meet us here, but it looks like they couldn't bring themselves to do it."

"Well, what are we going to do about it then?" asked Falco.

Fox stamped his foot on the wooden porch and replied, "I don't know. Maybe we should head back to the ship and wait a few more minutes. Maybe they'll show up soon."

In response to Fox's suggestion, Fara shook her head and opined, "If they're not in the house now, I don't think they'll be in it at any point tonight. I know that they _are_ trained scouts, but I don't see any reason for them to be out in this weather right now."

As if on cue, the roar of distant engines broke through the consistent noise of the heavy snowfall. The noise grew in volume for upwards of a minute, after which two snowmobile headlights sliced through the blizzard. Descending the steps and standing in front of the lodge, Fox glanced to his right and watched the two vehicles approach him from the far end of the village.

Noticing the mercenary troupe standing in front of the lounge, the rider of the snowmobile to the right – according to Fox's point of view – waved his hand at the team and slowed to a halt in front of them before shutting off his vehicle's engine and climbing off. He wore a black winter coat and white pants that sported a gray camouflage pattern. A hood obscured his face until he pulled it down, revealing himself as a snow leopard who looked to be in his late thirties in terms of age.

While he approached Fox, his partner – a youthful, gray-furred wolfess with long, dark gray hair – clambered off the other snowmobile. After taking a quick glance at her, Slippy estimated that the age gap between her and the leopard was greater than fifteen years. With a voice replete with a thick accent befitting the climate in which they lived, she addressed Star Fox. "Sorry to keep you waiting. We found something interesting on the way back and had to take a look at it. I do beg your pardon."

Falco scowled in response while his body continued to reject the frigid weather around him. _"It better have been pretty freaking important,"_ he muttered under his breath. Miyu's expression communicated a similar attitude, but she chose to remain silent while the snow leopard stepped in front of Fox and held out his gloved hand for him to shake.

"Glad to see that you made it, Star Fox. I'm Reinhold Morton, former leader of SPIRE, and this is my…er…friend Yana."

The she-wolf gritted her teeth and let out a quick, frustrated yip shortly before Fara crossed her arms and asked Reinhold, "She's your wife, isn't she?"

The leopard's face flushed red for a moment. "Um…yes and no. We never formally married, but there's a reason for that—a reason that I don't feel like discussing right now. Anyway, how about we head inside where it's warm? There's plenty of room for all of you. I've also got your gear and weapons laid out in the great room."

"Sounds good," Fox consented.

"Great. Yana, let them in and show them around while I put the snowmobiles away."

The she-wolf nodded in obedience and led the mercenary team up the lodge stairs before procuring a key from her pants pocket and inserting it into the worn brass door handle. The door creaked open to reveal a candlelit room complete with an enormous cloth couch, a chandelier held together with heavy-duty ropes, a large wine rack on the left side of the room next to an enormous, active fireplace, and a large, rough table where five sets of white clothing and five assault rifles rested. Notably, both the clothing and the weapons bore the hieroglyphic insignia of the Makaara terrorist group that Supervisor Ling had mentioned during his meeting with Fox and Fara. Clearly, whoever had procured the gear had stopped at nothing to make their appearances convincing.

"Makes me uneasy just looking at them," Fox muttered under his breath, but not quietly enough for the rest of the team and Yana not to hear him.

"These are the real deal, Fox," Slippy implied. "The finishes are all corroded by sand – probably from Titania where these guns came from. I wonder how they ended up here."

"Someone working for Corneria had some serious guts. Either that or they got unbelievably lucky when they found these," Miyu replied.

Falco picked up one of the rifles, which featured a curved magazine that struck him as being heavier than what he was accustomed to. Giving the side of the weapon a once-over, he noticed a slot for spent cartridges on the right side and curled the edge of his beak in near-disbelief. "Really? They gave us ballistic weapons? They might as well have asked us to just walk into that base with our hands tied behind our backs."

Yana's tail perked up in response to Falco. "It's not what it looks like. These are not ordinary ballistic rifles. The barrels have all been bored out for the modified .358 caliber bullets, which are made of an armor-piercing tungsten alloy. At medium to short range, these will work every bit as well as plasma or laser weapons – just don't expect miracles at long range. Of course, that's why I and my husband will be taking care of that for you." She turned her head for a moment and glanced toward the fireplace, where an enormous sniper rifle leaned against the stone surface.

After Star Fox had examined the equipment on the table for long enough, Yana pointed towards a large staircase on the left side of the room and said, "Team, follow me upstairs. This is where we keep the guest rooms. There are four of them, which works out perfectly for you. I'm sorry to say that we don't have any hot water at the moment, unfortunately."

"_You've got to be kidding me,"_ thought Slippy. _"The one thing I was hoping for after landing in this icebox."_

At the top of the wooden stairs, the passageway ended in a wall, with two halls branching off from the cul-de-sac to the left and right. "There are two bedrooms for each side," Yana explained. "You can choose which ones you'd like. They're all identical anyway."

"Great," Falco spoke up. "Am I going to miss anything important if I turn in now? I'm telling you, the flight over here wore me out."

Taken aback, Yana replied, "Um…I don't think that'll be a problem. I'll just let Reinhold know about it. Have a good night…I think?"

"Yeah. I'll be out pretty soon. Talk to you in the morning." With that, Falco approached the nearest bedroom and closed the door behind him after entering it.

Turning to Fox, who looked peeved by his teammate's behavior, Yana asked, "Is he always like that?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Fox replied. "He likes to have things his way. I think the weather got to him. He's from Zoness, you see."

Yana nodded. "I understand. If I hadn't been born here, I don't think I could take this winter weather. Looking at your team, I actually feel sorry for you. I think you're the only one here who has the right kind of fur coat for this climate. We'll do everything we can to help you, though."

"Thanks. I know Reinhold wants to chat, but to be honest, I feel like following Falco's lead and going to bed. The time change after we landed on the planet wiped me out," Fox admitted.

The wolfess glanced at the two bedrooms to the right of the stairwell and sighed, "Reinhold needs to talk to you about the mission for a little while, but the rest of your team can hit the beds now if they'd like."

"Oh yes," Miyu whispered, breaking off from the group and claiming the bedroom next to Falco's on the left side of the stairs. A second door slam confirmed her decision to retire early. Although his movements lacked the speed and urgency of Falco or Miyu's, Slippy soon followed suit and walked into the first bedroom on the right, leaving only Fara, Fox, and Yana in the hallway at the top of the stairs.

Showing her teeth in a mild display of nervous unease, Yana explained to the two remaining members of Star Fox, "Reinhold should be back in by now. I promise that I'll try to make this quick. He's not one to ramble on, either. He knows it's late; and we're all going to need all the rest we can get for tomorrow."

"Thanks, Yana," Fox murmured before the young she-wolf led him and his fiancée down the stairs to the main level.

* * *

_- _§_ -_

* * *

On a tall, snow-covered bluff overlooking the small mountain village through a gap in the towering pine trees, a solitary figure stood, scanning the area with an advanced set of infrared binoculars. The driving snow alighted on the hood that covered his muzzle, while his thick vulpine brush was forced to contend with the elements. Although he tried his best to maintain his composure in the freezing winter night, his body refused to stop warning him about the danger of remaining outside in the blizzard. While he used his binoculars, two weapons hung from his back – a worn battle rifle that looked like a relic from a long-forgotten war, and a long, serrated katana with a carbon fiber hilt. Unlike the firearm that he carried, the sword appeared to have been constructed within the past year.

Through his binoculars, he focused his attention on the docked transport ship outside the largest building in the village – the lodge on the north end. He scanned the vehicle for any identifying regalia, but found nothing other than blank sheet metal.

"_That's a military transport. If it doesn't have any markings, it's probably the property of an intelligence agency or an undercover mercenary group."_

Putting his binoculars into the small leather bag that hung from his shoulder, he ordered, "Roux, scan that transport. Try to find out where it came from and who it belongs to."

In response to his command, a female voice echoed in his head. "Let me see…it's a Cornerian-built G61 transport, but the licensing tag is unreadable. It's not listed as belonging to any fleet, either."

"Intelligence agency it is, then," the figure muttered. "But what are they doing this far up here?"

"They'd probably be asking you the same thing if they knew you were here," the voice in his head replied.

"Don't get me started."

"They might be after the same thing you are. Maybe you should think about introducing yourself."

"I don't think so, Roux. I doubt that I can trust anyone else to help me with my objective. The stakes are too high."

"If that's the case, then why do you think you can do it yourself?"

The vulpine sighed, exhaling a stream of air into the winter night. The moisture in his breath crystallized as it left his nostrils, while a small part of it transformed into a steamy vapor. "I'm not sure I can, Roux. I just don't want to let anyone I can't trust in on this."

"You and your trust issues. I honestly can't believe you've gotten this far with how little you've done to engage the people you've run into on this ridiculous mission. Why, if I wasn't restricted to this digital state, I'm sure I'd have found your sister and brought her back by now," the female voice remarked.

Clenching his fists, the fox retorted, "What gives you the right to say that? You don't even know what she looks like."

"Based on your description of her, I can't imagine that it would be very difficult," the voice shot back.

Admitting defeat for the moment, the vulpine lowered his head and muttered, "Roux, now is not the time for this. I'm tired and I need to find shelter ASAP – without letting the people in that lodge know that I'm here. If you would, do me a favor and keep your mouth shut until I get settled in for the night. You can talk all you want after that."

"Fair enough. I'd suggest setting up camp in that small house on the south end of the village. I see some firewood under an awning on the side. It doesn't look like you'll be seen from the lodge, either."

The vulpine glanced down the hill and to his left, where a small building with the aforementioned awning stood. Fallen snow lay in piles around the building, but the wood under the shelter built into the side seemed untouched by the moisture. Perfect firewood, then.

Hoping that the snow that had frozen onto his hooded cloak would obscure him from view, he carefully descended the hill, being careful to avoid stepping into any ravines that the snow hid from the naked eye while at the same time keeping a watchful eye on the lodge. He had watched the five guests enter the building along with the two normal residents; and he had no intention of being discovered by any of them.

The small house grew closer as he pushed his way through the pines bordering the village. With trained footsteps, he crept through the woods and entered the village premises. Upon reaching the desired building's back door, he stopped and frowned when he noticed the snow piled up around it. His hands already felt numb from the icy weather outside; and he knew that after clearing the snow, they would be almost incapable of starting a fire inside. Nonetheless, he dug in and forced himself to move the snow away from the door, using nothing but his hands. Fifteen minutes passed before he freed the door, but then he found himself faced with another problem. It seemed that whoever had left the building had locked it from the inside without providing another means of entry.

"_I've just about had enough of this already. I've got to get inside quickly, or frostbite's going to become a real possibility."_

Taking a quick look around to make sure that no eyes were upon him, he reached behind his back and drew his katana. He brandished it for a moment; then, he swung it upwards along the door seam. The loud report of ripping wood reverberated through the woods behind him, along with the rewarding sound of the metal lock splitting in two and clattering to the wooden floor inside the building. With the bolt no longer a concern, the fox pried the door open and stepped inside. Several mice darted about on the floor as he entered, although he expected a similar welcome. Not a single lamp existed in the building, although the two windows on the right wall allowed a small amount of light to enter from the outside.

The luminescence from the village's main lights provided enough light for him to make out the majority of the small dwelling that he had forced his way into. A stone fireplace stood on the left side of the building, while a bed awaited him to his left. To his delight, the house's owner had left numerous blankets on it, along with a thick, white fur belonging to one of the non-anthropomorphic bears that roamed the area.

"_At least I'll be able to sleep comfortably," _he thought.

With his temporary sanctuary established, he walked outside and quietly gathered a handful of firewood, which he assembled in the center of the floor inside a circle of rubble that he scooped out of the dark fireplace. As much as he wanted to light a fire in the area designed for it, he knew that the lodgers on the north end of Silverhurst would see the smoke rising out of the chimney. Similarly, the flames from the floor fire would no doubt show through his building's windows. To remedy this, the fox removed his cloak and his pants, revealing the black one-piece combat suit that he wore underneath it. Two identical badges adorned each of his shoulders. The emblem on each of them represented an image of a peculiar-looking skull with a disproportionately long chin, and below each insignia was a brief hieroglyphic title written in a language not found in the Lylat System.

Taking his cold, wet overclothes in his hands, he draped them over the windows, effectively blocking any view of the fire which he had yet to light. In the darkness surrounding him, he groped for his lighter and eventually located it before he brought it to the firewood and sparked it into life. The small fire burned with a lazy, controlled intensity that illuminated the inside of the abandoned house with a warm, comforting glow.

After admiring his work, the fox pointed his wrist communicator at the floor and pressed a command button on the screen. A second later, a beam of blue light shot out of the device and began to trace the outline of a female body. When the blue lines completed their sketch, color filled in the blank area in the center and spawned a ravishing, red-furred vixen with black hair that fell to her shoulders. Despite being a manifestation of data, she wore a black bodysuit with red outlines – a terrible fit for the climate, but for an AI, temperature meant nothing. The fox who owned her had never understood why she preferred to 'wear' what she did. All he knew was that the eccentric individual who had sold her to him explained that her personality source was an infamous bounty huntress known for making improbable escapes and cashing in on seemingly impossible bounties.

After manifesting herself, the vixen stretched in front of the fire and sighed, "Thank you so much. I was starting to feel restricted in there. Why can't you let me stay like this all the time, anyway?"

Her vulpine owner poked at the fire with his sword and answered, "I gave you the option to stay that way all the time if you were willing to change your outfit to something less enticing. I took a vow of purity before I left my homeworld, you know."

"Oh yeah… the zero fun clause," the vixen replied, sitting down across from her owner at the fire.

"Roux…"

"Oh fine – I was just trying to liven things up a little bit. Since the day I met you, I don't think I've seen you smile once."

The fox cracked a forced, artificial smile that failed to represent even the slightest iota of joy. "There. Are you happy?"

"That's not the idea," the vixen groused, placing her hands on her head. "What I meant is that I haven't seen you act truly happy yet. You're always miserable, or so it seems."

"After I find out where my stepsister is being held, I'll make sure you get a chance to see me in a good mood."

"What is with you and your stepsister, anyway? You really have a thing for her; and I'll tell you right now that it's not healthy."

The vulpine bit his lip to ward off an angry outburst. "You don't know how I feel about her. Have you ever been so madly in love with somebody that your entire existence would be meaningless without them? Well, that's how I feel about my stepsister. Ever since the day when my father adopted her and brought her into our house, I knew I had to have her. I could tell that she was special – and not just because she looked different from the rest of us."

"Does she feel the same way about you, though?" asked the vixen.

The fox sighed, "No, not really. She always had a passing interest in me, but she never took the hints that I gave her about wanting to have a deeper relationship."

"So you're hoping that by rescuing her – if she's even alive, that is – she'll change her mind about you?"

Pointing his finger at the AI, the vulpine retorted, "I know she's alive. I can sense her thought patterns. We're close. The trail that took me across five different planets ends here, in this ice-covered hell. I'm not just doing this because I want her, either. I truly care about her. Every night, I have trouble sleeping because all I can think of is what she must be going through right now. Sometimes, I feel like my mind links with hers while I sleep. I know it's hard to explain, but it happens between me and her."

"You _are_ a telepath, right?" Roux asked.

"Kind of. Sometimes I'll pick up on an unguarded thought or two, but most of the time, all my telepathy does is help me identify people by their thought patterns. My stepsister's is much more powerful, though. Before she disappeared, I remember her trying to move small objects with her mind. She actually succeeded once."

"Telekinesis? You mean to tell me that's possible?"

The fox shook his head and replied, "Normally, no. But she's a bit different from most people. Some of the elders in my community believe that she's one of the so-called 'deophs' mentioned in passing in my people's holy book.

"A demigoddess, in other words," Roux stated.

"Sort of," the vulpine continued, "The elders aren't sure whether that's a good or a bad thing. Most deophs that appear in our mythology are extremely malevolent, you see. If that hatred is in her blood, I haven't seen it flare up yet. She's actually the most tranquil person I've ever met." He leaned back and then admitted, "Well, actually, I should take back what I just said. There was one time when she lost her temper. A few years back, she ran into two men in the act of raping an innocent girl from my hometown. Needless to say, she beat them to within inches of their lives. I'd say they definitely deserved it."

The vixen across from him at the fire pulled her legs up to her chest and remarked, "Well, that was a twist. Are you sure you really know what you're dealing with? I mean, what if it all goes well and you convince her to mate with you? That _is_ your goal, right?"

"Er…kind of. It's not the sex I'm after, though. I want to spend my life with her, if you can understand that."

"You'd better not make her angry in the process," Roux emphasized.

The vulpine dismissively waved his hand and responded, "I haven't managed to do it yet, so I don't think there's much for me to worry about. It takes a lot to make her lose her temper; but when she does, look out."

Roux rolled her eyes and muttered, "Wonderful. That definitely sounds like someone I'd like to spend my life with."

"Your sarcasm could make me say the same thing about you," the fox retorted.

"I'm an AI, stupid. You're making a logical fallacy."

Pushing himself off the floor and standing up, the vulpine frowned and pulled a black semi-automatic handgun out of its holster on his belt. "I'm finished talking to you. Here – take this and stand guard while I catch some sleep. If anyone tries to get in, blast their head off."

Somewhat reluctantly, the vixen clasped the weapon and moved towards the door while her owner eyed the bed near the fireplace. After putting out the small fire on the floor, he approached the bedside and slipped under the thick comforter. A thick, fluffy pillow offered a comfortable rest for his head, while the white fur at the foot of the bed provided enough warmth for him to fall asleep almost immediately.

As he drifted off into the world of his dreams, Roux whispered to him, "Goodnight, Sabre."

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

_I was going to cut back my A/N's, but it looks like some of you actually like those things. So... here's one now.  
_

_If you've read The Oasis, it should be painfully obvious who Roux is based on. Even her name is a translated variation of her personality source. Yes, she and her owner will be playing into future chapters if it wasn't obvious enough already.  
_


	4. Aversion

❸ **Aversion** ❸

"_The silence is so overwhelming – louder than words, you might say. For all this time, I've been desperately trying to hold onto who I am…or should I say 'was'? I don't even know anymore. Is it possible that my mind – my will, my thoughts – simply passed on into some other space, or even another person? Is that even possible? Please…someone answer me before it's too late._

"_Please, help. I don't want to die."_

* * *

_- _§_ -_

* * *

Krystal's breathing came out in short, ragged gasps as Fox turned the doorknob and stepped into her darkened hospital room. Although he tried to conceal them, tear stains marked the area around his eyes. The professional suit that he had worn to an earlier appointment with General Peppy Hare looked badly disheveled and unkempt to a level uncharacteristic of him, while his rough headfur gave the impression that he hadn't combed it in days.

Without a word, he approached her bed and knelt beside it. Running his fingers through her cerulean hair, he whispered, "I'm so sorry for all of this."

"Fox, it's not your fault," the vixen replied, reaching out her hand and grasping his shoulder. "There's nothing you could have done to cause this or prevent it from happening. It is what it is, and we just have to accept it and move on."

"But it's not fair," Fox growled. "You don't deserve to be here, dying in front of my eyes like this."

Krystal faintly shook her head and explained, "There was a proverb that my mother told me when I was young. It said, 'Never assume that you deserve anything. Wicked you were born, wicked you will die. No one deserves anything but death in the end. Whatever good comes your way, you must accept it as a gift, without expecting the chance to receive it again.'"

"That's dark," Fox hoarsely whispered.

"Not all of my people's proverbs were happy, you know. Life is never that simple. I'm actually not bitter about dying at all."

"But you had so much left to live for!"

"I know," Krystal sighed. "I wanted to have children with you, I wanted to live to see us both retire from mercenary work, and I wanted to move into that beach house that we always talked about buying. None of that matters now."

Fox clutched his head with his hands and snarled, "I just don't understand this! Every time something good enters my life, it gets taken away long before it should! My mother, my father – now it's you. If this is someone's idea of a cruel joke, I'd like to show them what it means to be miserable!

Shaking her head, Krystal touched Fox's arm and whispered, "No, Fox. No one is playing a joke on you. When I'm gone, I don't want you to be sorry about my death. I know that I'll be in a better place. Hopefully you'll be able to join me there eventually."

"I hope so," Fox whispered, fondling Krystal's muzzle with his hand, which felt strangely damp to the vixen.

As she peered into his sad, melancholic eyes, the edges of her vision began to blur; but with the sort of blur that results from an object being submersed in a liquid. Frightened by the sudden development, she gasped, "Fox? Do you notice anything…different with what you're seeing?"

The vulpine's eyes widened in concern. "Um, no? What do you mean?"

"My vision – it's getting blurry. Oh no…"

"Krystal! Stay with me!"

The wavelike blurs continued to eat into her line of sight until her entire field of vision appeared as a gently rippling wall of water that obscured Fox's face and the room around her. She attempted to speak, but she found that her words only created a virtually indistinguishable, garbled low frequency. She watched as Fox reached out to her; but as the image of her beloved husband began to fade from her eyes, she no longer felt his touch.

"_Is this…death?" _she wondered.

In seconds, Fox disappeared completely, replaced by an unbroken mass of clear blue liquid. She attempted to turn her head to see if anything could be ascertained about her circumstances; but to her horror, she found herself completely unable to move. The only sound that reached her ears was the consistent humming of an electrical motor—that is, until a voice broke the silence. It belonged to a man, and it reverberated through the liquid surrounding her in a tone that she struggled to understand.

Nevertheless, she managed to make out a few lines of speech from each of the two people that she felt standing nearby.

"_Sir! The induced reality has broken down! What's the next step?"_

"_Our next step is to evacuate this base, leaving _3_ here for our enemies to locate."_

"_What?"_

"_You heard me right. It's part of the plan. The Colonel's intention was for her to end up in the Cornerians' hands from the very beginning. I know it sounds ridiculous now, but I guarantee that the results will speak for themselves eventually."_

"_Um…alright, sir. When do we leave?"_

"_We don't have much time. I'd say the sooner we leave, the better."_

* * *

- § -

* * *

Even in the light of day, snow continued to pour down from the skies as Star Fox forced their way through the thick snowdrifts that lay between them and the assumed location of the Venomian base that housed the source of their objective. Outside Silverhurst, the terrain changed to that of a mountainous forest, replete with challenging topography that offered a sanctuary for the dangerous local wildlife.

Reinhold and Yana both pressed on ahead of the group, occasionally sending transmissions to Fox and warning them of any dangers or alternate routes that lay ahead. For the most part, the team pulled their way through the snow without offering much in the way of conversation. Expressions of disgust riddled each of their faces, but none of them bothered to speak about it. They could tell from appearances alone that the misery was mutual. Their replicated Makaara gear offered a fair amount of protection from the elements, but even the exceptional winter gear failed to keep them from feeling the effects of the icy winter air.

Kicking up a large spray of powdery snow, Falco stepped aside and leaned up against a tall pine tree. His quick breathing suggested that he felt the need to stop and rest for a moment; and to his relief, the rest of the team took notice and followed his example. While the mercenaries paused their trek towards the subterranean facility, Miyu broke the silence and asked, "Did you ever get the feeling that something isn't right here?"

"Of course something's not right!" Slippy shot back. "It's so cold that I can barely move!"

"Well…yeah, but that's not what I meant," the feline explained.

Fox crossed his arms and leaned backwards into a tree across from where Falco stood. "You think we've been had?"

Miyu glanced to her right at Fox and answered, "Yeah. That's what I was thinking. Something is wrong with this mission. First off, why did the director of the DIS call _us_, of all people? This isn't the kind of work we're trained to do. Everyone except you belongs to a species that can't handle this weather, and then there's that scouting couple. They're creepy! They act so awkward, like they're trying to hide something that we ought to know."

"Yeah, there's something going on with those two," Falco agreed. "I wouldn't trust either of them."

Fara nodded her head. "I feel you both. I got the same impression from them. Call it my intuition, but I don't think they're actually a couple. They have absolutely no interest in each other."

"But what reason would they have for faking that?" asked Fox.

"Your guess is as good as mine, Foxie," the fennec replied.

A moment later, Fox's wrist communicator chirped and indicated an incoming transmission from Reinhold, one mile farther down the wintry trail. Pressing the 'answer' button, he spoke, "Fox here. What's the situation?"

With concern in his voice, the snow leopard whispered, "There's someone else out here. We saw some boot prints in the snow and caught a glimpse of something moving through the trees about a half mile back. We'll give you updates on it as they come. Just be careful back there. It might be hostile."

"Copy that. We'll keep an eye out," Fox replied before closing the comms channel and turning to the rest of his team. "I don't have a good feeling about this. Do any of you feel like we're being set up?"

"Heck yes," Miyu replied.

"How about you, Falco?"

The avian crossed his arms and muttered, "I don't get spooked much, but there's something creepy about this. I don't like it."

"Well then, maybe we should slip back to the transport and get out of here," Fox suggested, albeit with a tinge of uncertainty.

"I'm all for it," Slippy opined. "This weather is killing me!"

Despite being in opposition to her more pessimistic counterparts, Fara voiced her opinion. "Guys, this is an important mission. If the DIS Supervisor gave it to us, we can't just bail out. We have to finish this whether we like it or not."

In response, Fox frowned uneasily, as if he knew that his wife knew better. "Fara has a point," he grumbled. "I don't want to have to explain why we failed our job if the only reason we bailed out is because it creeped us out. Carry on then…I guess."

"You don't sound so sure about that, Fox," Falco stated.

"It's because I'm not. This whole operation feels like a setup."

"I see where you're coming from. I…wait a minute – what was that noise?"

Fara's large ears shot up as the foreign audio waves reached her auditory senses. "I hear it too. It's behind us. It sounds…mechanical."

Turning towards the path they had been following, the team glanced over the low-hanging tree branches, stumps belonging to fallen vegetation, and the massive, ice-covered hills looming over the valley trail. The noise increased with every second; and as the sound level grew, so did the ground-shaking reverberations created by its source.

"That definitely does _not _sound friendly," Falco warned.

With visible nervousness, Fox growled, "It's coming this way, too. I really don't want to find out what that thing is. We've got to get to cover now. Team, split up – we can't afford to let whatever that thing is find all of us grouped in one spot."

"What if we can't find cover?" asked Miyu.

Fox turned his attention to the feline; and with a deadpan scowl, he replied, "Use your imagination. If that thing is what I think it is, we're not even close to being equipped enough to take on."

The feline's ears fell against her skull. "Noted," she whimpered before scanning the area and sprinting through the snow towards an oversized fir tree with low-hanging boughs that provided a seemingly effective – if painful – shroud for her.

While Falco locked onto an imposing boulder thirty yards off the center of the snowy forest trail, Fara and Fox crept away from the path in the opposite direction. Spotting a fallen pine ahead of them, the two foxes made for the largest part of the trunk and vaulted over it before crouching and waiting for the source of the noise to pass.

In the meantime, Slippy found himself in the open without the appropriate body temperature to move quickly enough to escape. As the team's only cold-blooded individual, his entire body balked at his command to seek out cover and hide. Nothing he did allowed him to move more than a few feet in a timely manner, and as the sound of the approaching machine grew louder, he feared for the worst. He felt the urge to cry for help from one of his nearby teammates, but his fear of alerting the marauder to his presence prevented him from making a sound.

In the midst of the driving snow around him, his mind raced for a solution. Then, at that moment, a large, twenty-foot tall walker appeared through a gap in the trees two hundred yards down the trail. Its two armor-plated legs spread themselves wide to allow for additional balance, while the machine's snow-pattered camouflage finish vainly attempted to allow it to blend into the wintry surroundings. From behind it, a long, reptilian-like tail jutted out from its imposing, angular midsection replete with two 'arms' that acted as blades for clearing obstacles and attacking larger enemies. The walker's thunderous footsteps shook the ground and caused snow to cascade down from the nearby pine trees, while at the same time, a faint mechanical whine from its motor pierced the air.

Slippy froze in place – not only from the cold, but also from the fear that threatened to overwhelm him. Knowing that his teammates were powerless to assist him, he did the only thing that came to his mind, which was to fall backwards on the ground a few feet off the center of the trail. If the walker had thermal sensors, it would likely dismiss his body heat signature as insignificant and continue on. The idea of playing dead to fool a machine struck him as hopeless, but he saw no way around it. As the machine drew closer, he closed his eyes and let his limbs hang loose.

From behind the cover of the fallen pine tree, Fox and Fara gritted their teeth and waited as the walker stomped along the mountain path. Both foxes assumed that the machine had no sentient input, as it seemed ridiculous to keep scouts trained on the area surrounding the base, the location of which should not have been able to fall into enemy hands to begin with. The seconds pressed on, and the machine's hammering footsteps continued unabated. Fox and Fara feared that they would come to a stop at any time, however.

Two seconds later, their fears became reality. A mere moment after it reached the team's general location, it stopped and began to scan the area; or more specifically, the area near its feet where a presumably dead amphibian lay. With fear in her eyes, Fara motioned to Fox and slowly stood up to the point where she could look over the fallen tree trunk. She only remained in the position for two seconds, but it was enough for her to understand the weight of their circumstances.

As the fennec returned to her crouched position, Fox whispered, "What did you see?"

"An assault walker," Fara replied. "It's worse, though – Slippy wasn't able to get away. He's playing dead to try to fool it into ignoring him."

Fox brought his hand to his face and groaned, exhuming multiple expletives and fiercely suppressing the urge to snarl in response to Fara's observation. Although several choice words occurred to him, he said nothing and waited for the walker to begin moving again.

"_There's no way Slippy's going to make it out of this alive. I've got to do something, but what? We don't have anything that can take that thing down! Damn it to hell! Maybe if I do something to distract it, it'll start moving and leave Slippy alone. Maybe if I create a diversion…"_

Before his thoughts gave way to action, the thundering mechanical footsteps resumed. A wave of relief crashed over the entire team as the walker continued past their respective positions and slowly disappeared into the blizzard-obscured forest farther down the trail. Each of them waited over a minute after the walker had left the scene to slide out from their respective hiding spots for fear that it might turn around and make another pass through the area. However, as the minutes passed, the machine's footsteps gradually gave way to the sound of the falling snow.

Knowing how close Slippy had been to being killed, the team stepped into the open and approached the amphibian, who struggled to stand up due to the icy weather's effects on his circulatory system. Falco extended his hand and helped him to his feet, although he quickly realized that lying in the snow for more than three minutes had done nothing good for his teammate. Echoing a similar concern, Miyu glanced at Fox and whispered, "He doesn't look good. We need to find warmth quickly."

"I know," the vulpine replied, clenching his fists to emphasize his stress. "This weather is dangerous to all of us. I saw some steam coming out of the ground at certain spots on the way here, so there's got to be a heat source nearby – probably hot springs of some kind. Even a cave would be good enough right now. I'll radio Yana and Reinhold to let them know about our situation. There's not a time limit on this operation, so it shouldn't throw us off track."

Falco nodded. "Sounds like a plan. That walker, though... I thought this was just supposed to be an open wilderness. If they're patrolling the area, they've got to know something's up."

"I was thinking the same thing," replied Fox. "Last night, Reinhold pointed out that our best bet at gaining access to the base was through a service entrance on the facility's west wing. But if they know about this, they'll have it locked down tighter than the vault to the Cornerian Central Bank."

"True, but we can't afford to worry about that now. We have to find shelter," Fara warned. "Slippy's not the only one feeling under the weather here."

Fox frowned and tapped a series of commands into his wrist interface before a two-dimensional rendering of the nearby terrain appeared on the screen. The topography changed in color based on the surrounding temperature, with most of the map indicating a 'light blue' heat reading of around -15oC. However, a large patch of yellow in the top left part of Fox's temperature map attracted his attention. In the center of a large, rocky mass was an area of warmth more than likely hidden in the depths of a mountain cave. Judging from the virtual landscape, Fox assumed this to be the case.

A tense but satisfied smile crossed his face as he turned his attention to his team and said, "The terrain scanner says that there's a cave complex half a mile from here. The temperature reading suggests that it has geothermal heating of some kind, so it should be a good place to rest up for a little while before we get back out here again. We need to get moving before things get worse."

The rest of the team nodded in approval and fell in line behind Fox as he stepped through the thick snow, using his wrist unit's virtual mapping system to provide him with his bearings while the fierce blizzard whipped around them. The elements seemed to have an ill will of their own; and the snow only increased in intensity the farther the team progressed. At the crest of a steep hill, Fox glanced over his shoulder and cringed when he noticed Slippy and Miyu. Both looked like the textbook definition of the word miserable, with Slippy's face colored an icy shade of light green and Miyu's fur matted in place and covered in tiny icicles.

Only a few hundred yards separated them from the warmth of the cave, which appeared on the left side of the trail in the rocky face of an ice-covered hill. A faint hint of steam filtered out of the opening, suggesting that significant heat lay in wait inside the underground system. Fox let out a deep breath as he stepped into the entrance, which barely accommodated his figure. A steep, slippery rock incline snaked downwards through the narrow passageway that became increasingly foggy as the team descended into the cave. While watching his footsteps to avoid slipping, he felt Fara tap him on the shoulder and then whisper into his ear. "I think there's something in here. I thought I heard footsteps coming from up ahead."

Fox stopped, causing the team behind him to halt as well. In as quiet of a whisper as he could manage, he replied, "If that's the case, arm your weapons. No flashlights, though. We don't want to advertise our presence here."

The quiet sound of firearm safeties being flicked off temporarily filled the narrow, descending, rocky shaft. Then, with his gun pressed into his right shoulder, Fox continued the descent, using his left hand to steady himself on the shaft wall. The rocky trail seemed to have been carved out by a long-since-extinct water flow; and the farther down it went, the wider it became. Wary of Fara's suggestion, Fox kept both his eyes and ears open for any unnatural sounds. However, the only noise that reached his ears was the faint hissing sound of steam evaporating. To the entire team's relief, the temperature climbed as they pushed deeper into the cave shaft.

Upon reaching the bottom, the narrow pathway widened into a grand underground chamber, complete with goliath stalactites and stalagmites made out of smooth, slick limestone. Steam filled the entire space as it radiated from the numerous hot springs that dotted the immense floor area. Instead of the pitch darkness that the team expected, hundreds of small, luminescent crystals dotted the limestone structures and bathed the underground expanse in a calming, soothing light.

With their weapons held at the ready, the team stepped into the chamber and scanned their visuals for any hostile targets. They had come to trust Fara's auditory senses over the years after having their lives saved by her abnormal sense of hearing on several occasions, and they knew better than to doubt her.

"Do you see anybody?" Fox asked, directing his question to the team in general rather than a specific person.

"Nothing," Falco whispered in reply.

"Maybe I was just hearing things again," Fara suggested. "It is a cave, after all."

"Hmm…maybe. Wait!"

No sooner had he spoken than a faint, green mist began to fill the cave. Fox's instincts warned him not to breathe it, but after holding his breath for upwards of twenty seconds, he relented and inhaled the air. He regretted it immediately. The instant the air entered his lungs, he began to feel faint. As his vision started to blur, he frantically looked around at the rest of his team only to find them lying unconscious on the ground.

"_Sleep gas. It was a trap all along."_

Cursing his fate, Fox fell to the limestone floor, powerless to resist the effects of the powerful airborne chemicals that rendered him unconscious in a matter of seconds. As his vision faded out, he watched as two figures slowly approached him.

* * *

_- _§_ -_

* * *

For an undetermined amount of time, Fox drifted in and out of consciousness. The sleep-inducing airborne toxin prevented him from acting on any impulses that told him to stand up, but it also gave him a comforting feeling that calmed his nerves. Although their voices were garbled, Fox heard two people conversing over him. One of the two voices belonged to a man and resounded through the cave system with a faint rasp, while the other voice came from a woman standing next to him. He wanted to open his eyes and discover who had subdued him and his team, but the effects of the gas prevented him from doing so.

Then, he felt a needle being injected into his arm. His eyes shot open in response to the pain and he sat up, almost as if the sleep gas had never afflicted him to begin with. He tried to stand up, but before he could rise to his feet, the flat of a sword came down on his left shoulder and caused him to yelp in pain.

"Stay where you are, prisoner," a white-cloaked vulpine growled, holding his katana in front of Fox's muzzle. Although incensed, Fox recognized the seriousness in his captor's eyes and understood that any unwarranted movement would result in him being run through or decapitated. While the sword-wielding fox stared daggers at him, Fox's vision shifted to his right, where an attractive red vixen stood. Despite having nothing to substantiate his thoughts, he felt that he had met her before in another time and another place. She wore a black bodysuit and carried her counterpart's relic of a battle rifle, which she tentatively pointed at him in a way that made it obvious that she had no intent of firing on him. He even went as far as to guess that she had not even disengaged the rifle's safety.

"Who are you two and what are you doing here?" Fox demanded, gritting his teeth in anger.

"I should ask you the same question," the other vulpine rasped.

"Sorry. I'm not allowed to tell you that right now."

The sword-toting fox twisted his blade and touched its tip to Fox's throat. "You'd better speak up soon, or I'll make sure that you never speak another word again."

"Don't even think about it," Fox growled.

Fox felt the blade cut into his flesh as his captor replied, "I'm not making empty threats here. If you don't tell me who you are and what you're doing here, I will kill you and the rest of your group. It's not something I want to do, but I can't afford to take any more chances."

Baring his teeth, Fox snarled, "You're working for Venom, aren't you?"

"Absolutely not."

"Then who are you working for?"

The white-clad fox twitched his fingers on his sword's hilt and answered, "I am under orders from no one except my own free will. I don't care who you're working for. All I need to know is what you're doing in this frozen hell of a place."

Fox groaned and replied, "Fine. If you have to know, my team and I are trying to infiltrate and sabotage a Venomian base about a mile from this location. We believe there is a dangerous experimental weapon inside the facility that poses a threat to the Cornerian Federation."

"An experimental weapon? Of what nature?"

Fox shook his head. "I have no idea. All I know about it is that this area has been giving off unusual energy signatures recently. All evidence points to something unusual inside the base."

Seemingly satisfied with Fox's answer, the vulpine pulled his sword away from Fox's throat and sheathed it behind his back. "I see. In that case, I need to make a request."

"Really? A request? You just threatened to kill me, and now you're asking me to do you a favor?"

"You can do this the easy way, or I can force you to follow through with it," the vulpine warned.

In one swift motion, Fox hurriedly glanced over both the fox and the vixen in front of him. A plan began to form in his mind – a plan to put the brash interloper in his place and assert his dominance over the situation. With the vulpine's sword secured in its sheath behind his back, only the vixen's rifle presented a lethal challenge for what he planned to do next. Regardless, he knew that he would have to act quickly if he was to succeed.

A moment later, Fox locked eyes with his captor and bared his teeth. The white-cloaked vulpine reached for his sword, but Fox delivered a punishing roundhouse kick to his muzzle before he could arm himself. Enraged, the captor snarled in pain but failed to prevent himself from being leveled when Fox shoved him backwards and collapsed his left knee with a deft kick.

Behind his back, Fox heard the vixen struggling to arm her rifle, which had indeed been left with its safety on. While the captor started to pick himself off the ground after being knocked down, Fox spun on his heels and lashed out with a blind kick that struck the rifle's barrel and knocked it out of the shocked vixen's hands. As the weapon clattered to the ground, Fox instinctively twisted his body into a back roundhouse kick that caught his captor in the chest not one moment after he had regained his footing. However, unlike his initial attack, the kick seemed to strike concrete – or more specifically, the combat armor that the vulpine wore under his white overclothes. Instead of forcing his foe to the ground, the kick only managed to push him back two feet.

Expecting his attack to be more effective than it turned out to be, Fox struggled to regain his balance. Wasting no time, his captor turned his body to the side and caught him in the upper chest with a side kick amplified by the weight and density of his heavy combat boots. The strike knocked Fox out of balance; and he found himself powerless to prevent himself from falling backwards onto the cave floor. He avoided striking his head on the ground and attempted to recoil back into a fighting stance, but his opponent placed his boot on his chest before he could react and pointed his re-drawn sword at his throat.

"Nice try, but if you knew what you were dealing with before you attacked me, you would have avoided making that mistake."

Furious and shocked, Fox yelled, "What do you want from me?"

"I want to join you on your operation. You see, I'm trying to do the same thing, more or less."

Stunned, Fox gasped, "How did you know there was a base here?"

The fox with the sword collected himself for a moment and glanced to the side before he replied with a question of his own. "Do you have any experience with telepaths?"

"No."

"You do now. Back where I'm from, telepathy is common, although it's not as powerful as you probably think it is. However, it allows me to sense thought patterns and read identities with the information I gather from them. I'll try to make this as brief as possible, but the reason I'm here is because I think my stepsister is being held inside the base you're trying to get into. I've been looking for her for more than five years, and I think I've finally nailed down her location."

"Five years? You're a persistent one," Fox remarked.

Sheathing his sword, the other vulpine blushed and replied, "Well, I love her. I can't stand to think about what she's probably going through right now."

A confused frown appeared on Fox's face. "Wait, you're in love with…your stepsister?"

The vulpine stared at Fox with a glare that could have melted the snow and ice outside the cave. "Is there something wrong with that? We're not related by blood, so I don't see a problem with it."

Out of the corner of his eye, Fox noticed the vixen standing next to his captor subtly shake her head in disapproval. _"At least someone here has some common sense," _he thought to himself.

"_Oh crap. I hope he didn't pick that up."_

To avert the growing awkwardness of the situation, Fox turned his attention to the vixen and asked his captor, "Who's she?"

"That's Roux, my AI," the vulpine replied. "Supposedly, her personality source was quite a character. She helps me with electronics, equipment scans, navigation, and keeps me from going mad from being alone all the time."

"That's only because he's the most ridiculous introvert I've ever met in my life," Roux retorted.

"Quiet, Roux. I don't want to hear that right now," the vulpine whispered.

The vixen rolled her eyes and pouted, "Fine. Oh by the way, his name's Sabre, in case you wanted to know."

Still seething with frustration, Fox stood up, nodded his appreciation to Roux, and facetiously muttered, "Thanks for the info. I'm Fox McCloud, and these people you incapacitated are my teammates. How much longer are they going to be out, anyhow?"

"Probably about thirty minutes or so," Sabre replied. "I used my only energy syringe on you to wake you up."

"Great," Fox sarcastically remarked. "Was all this really necessary?"

Before Sabre could reply, Roux cut in and answered, "No. He just has really bad trust issues."

"Roux, shut up before I dematerialize you again," Sabre growled.

"Oh fine! Be like that! If you can't handle the truth, it's going to come back and bite you eventually, you know."

"That's quite enough," Sabre snapped before he pressed a button on his wrist communicator that caused the vixen's form to disintegrate into a formless blob of blue particles that lazily wandered towards the interface, where they disappeared with a quick flash of blue energy. "I'm telling you, she doesn't know when to shut her mouth."

"I like her. She's entertaining," Fox stated before glancing at the ground where the weapon she had been holding now lay. Despite its archaic construction and corroded state, he recognized the model and promptly chuckled, much to Sabre's disapproval.

"Do you have a problem with my gun?" he growled.

Fox suppressed a quiet laugh and asked, "Do you know what that is?"

Sabre shook his head. "No. It says on the side that it was made by the Gorhling Arms Corporation on Corneria, but that's all I know about it. It was the only thing I could get my hands on with my budget. The vendor I bought it from said that it could penetrate armor at over seven hundred meters, so I took him up on his offer." His explanation elicited nothing from Fox, causing him to nervously ask, "It's not a useless pile of junk, is it?"

"No – it's actually pretty rare these days. When it was new, it was state-of-the-art equipment. If you can find the ammo for it, it should be almost as effective now as it was back then. There's one thing I need to check, though…" He reached down and picked up the weapon, looking over it and inspecting it for reasons Sabre did not understand. Then, after ten seconds, Fox groaned, "Oh…you bought a Gen. 1."

"Is there something wrong with that?"

"No, it's just that the 3006 DMR Gen.1 wasn't fitted with a suppressor or a recoil compensator like the versions that came after it. If I remember, the Cornerian Army called this the 'Jackhammer' because of how abusive it was to its users."

"That explains why I paid so little for it," Sabre muttered.

"It's not a bad weapon – you just have to know how to use it," said Fox.

A moment later, Falco began to stir. Sitting up with a frustrated groan, he opened his eyes and demanded, "Hey! What the hell is going on here?"

In response, Sabre sighed and curled his lip. "Looks like I've got some explaining to do."

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

_This is version 2 of this chapter. After getting some feedback about Fox and Sabre coming to terms too easily, I decided to add the fight scene that you just read.  
_

_In response to Lurker: Peppy is still on the _Great Fox. _It simply didn't make any sense to have him slog through the snow with the rest of the team given his age and frailty compared to everyone else._


	5. Breach

❹ **Breach **❹

* * *

_This is the moment I had been dreading for what seems like an eternity - the moment where I feel nothing at all. Nothing is real anymore. I am empty - a hollow shell of a person who no longer knows anything about themselves, the world around them, or even reality itself. I am beyond hope of rescuing now. Now, I just hope someone arrives to put me out of my misery. This is not death - it is a fate far worse than that._

_Someone, please... _

_Release me - set me free from all of this._

* * *

_- _§_ -_

* * *

The weather in the mountains of northern Macbeth refused to change. Despite the three hour lapse of time spent in the cave, the snow continued to blanket the landscape and obscure the now-darkened skies above Macbeth's surface. Evening had fallen; and with the planet's northern hemisphere in the dead of winter, it quickly gave way for the darkness of the frigid night.

Sabre pressed on ahead of Star Fox, while Fox communicated with Reinhold and Yana and explained to them the reason for their three-hour lapse in communication. While the two seemed grateful that the team had survived their encounter with the lone soldier, Fox noticed a strong level of uncertainty regarding Sabre. Up until the present moment, every conversation regarding him involved either an apology or an explanation for his actions in the cave. For the moment, none of Star Fox's members knew much of anything about him other than that the fact of his shared knowledge about the mountain base. None of them trusted the fox; but at the same time, they felt no reason to regard him as a threat.

According to Fox's wrist-mounted map, the west auxiliary entrance was still a mile from the team's location. While Sabre was busy holding the team in the cave, Reinhold and Yana had located the vulnerable entry point and mapped out the area for Fox and his crew to take advantage of. As Sabre began to climb a snowy hill along the forested path ahead of them, Fox contacted Yana and asked her, "What's the situation around the west entrance?"

A brief sigh passed from the she-wolf's lips. "Four guards – two on patrol of the immediate area and two blocking the door, which looks like it needs a clearance code. We're still waiting for your cue. When you're ready, we'll drop the two door guards. You'll have to take out the other two and get into the base before they can lock it down. There's an external security camera on the outside of the base, so they'll see what's happening in real time. You're going to have to act quickly to get in."

"Noted. Hmm…maybe our sixth man can do something about that," Fox muttered.

Using Yana's comms line, her husband growled, "Listen, Fox – I wouldn't trust that man if I were you."

Fox shook his head. "I know, but he's after the same thing we are. He's definitely not hostile; that's for sure."

"Maybe not, but his interference is not in the plan. His presence could throw up a red flag with the Venomians. The objective revolves around you breaching the base as Makaara terrorist operatives; and if he's not in on the plan, it could backfire very badly. You're the only person who can do anything about him, Fox. Personally, I think he needs to be eliminated from the equation. He poses too much of a risk. I would recommend that you either force him to back off or cut him down while you can."

"Sorry, Reinhold. That's not going to happen. He's not about to back off, and I'm not going to kill him because I think he could be useful to us."

"Fine. Have it your way," the snow leopard sighed. "But don't tell me I didn't warn you about him."

With that, he closed the communications channel, leaving him and his fiancée in silence on the edge of a large, snow-covered bluff overlooking the Venomian base's west service entrance from a distance of half a mile. Glaring into Yana's eyes, he growled, "This is not good at all. That sixth man is going to interfere with the plan. It took six months for the Colonel's gambit to fall into place, and a damn it if some random intruder doesn't force his way into it and dismantle the whole thing!"

Yana's delicate expression changed to reflect her partner's. "Maybe we should contact him, then."

Reinhold's silence and consequent movement to activate his wrist communicator indicated that he agreed. In a number of seconds following a flurry of button mashing, a thin, aged voice resounded through the small device's underpowered speakers. "Reinhold? What seems to be the matter this time?"

"Colonel," the snow leopard replied, "It looks like there's a hitch in our plan. Somewhere along the way, Star Fox was delayed for several hours. After we regained contact with them, McCloud mentioned that they picked up a wandering soldier who intends to accompany them on their objective. Personally, I think this could completely sabotage the plan that you spent so much time and effort on creating. McCloud refuses to subdue the threat, leaving us with the undesirable requirement of having to do something about him."

"Pardon me, my friend, but what threat does the presence of this man pose to the plan?"

Somewhat exasperated, Reinhold explained, "The core of the plan was for them to enter the base disguised as terrorists. This sixth person sticks out like a sore thumb among them. If he follows through with what he intends to do, the operation will lose its plausibility."

Instead of frustration, suppressed joy emanated from Reinhold's wrist communicator. "How exactly is that a bad thing? Why, it fits in with my objective just as well as the agenda that I sent to you. Leave Star Fox's sixth man alone. I promise that everything will still work out in the end. Colonel Taniguchi, out."

Perturbed by the colonel's orders, Reinhold bit his lip and muttered, "I don't know what to make of this."

"You don't have to know what to make of it," Yana replied. "When the colonel says that it will work out in the end, he's convinced that everything is still going to go according to plan. Don't worry about it. Still, it's a shame that this base has to go."

"It's all part of the plan, dear," the leopard purred. "Don't you worry – the base has already been mostly evacuated by this point. Very little will be lost when all is said and done."

* * *

_- _§_ -_

* * *

The cold, snowy march through the darkened forest gave Fox and his team ample time to consider their next movements. With Fox's wrist-mounted terrain imager indicating the west service entrance as being half a mile from their current location, the team began to prepare for the final realization of their objective. Each of them expected heavy resistance with death around every corner, all while running the risk of being identified as Star Fox. Similar to Yana and Reinhold, Sabre's unwanted presence irked Fox for this reason. Still, the rogue vulpine could not be persuaded to go his own separate way; and Fox had no intention of shooting him down when he knew that he had the potential to become a valuable asset to the operation.

After a gentle incline in the path below their feet, faint exterior lights appeared in the distance. Sabre stopped at the peak of the hill and gazed at the source of the light with a wistful, yet furious stare. While he stood transfixed at the distant view of the concrete-covered shell of the Venomian base's only exterior construct, Star Fox came alongside him and halted at the same point that he had. While the rest of the team collected themselves for their next move, Fara placed her hand on Sabre's shoulder; and after sensing his anger, she whispered into his ear, "Is this where they're keeping your stepsister?"

"Yes," Sabre growled. "Although I can't feel her thoughts to the same degree as I did before, I know she's still in there. You _will_ help me rescue her, right?"

Fara took an uneasy breath and replied, "That wasn't our objective, but we'll see what happens."

While Sabre looked on, Fox addressed the rest of the team. "Listen up – we've got two targets to deal with. The scouts will handle the two guards stationed at the door. The other two are patrolling the area around the west entrance. After we take out the patrols, Reinhold and Yana will shoot the door guards. We won't have much time before security in the base finds out what's going on and puts the base on lockdown, so we'll need to move quickly. On my mark, move out."

With that, Fox began his final approach on the base. His footsteps became more hushed than before, as he knew that silence was key in order for the ambush to succeed without a hitch. Behind him, the rest of Star Fox followed his example. Each of them armed their assault rifles and held them in a ready position as they neared the west entrance. For the moment, Sabre followed suit and walked alongside Fox. Sliding his 'jackhammer' rifle out of its holster on his back, he whispered into his ear, "If I get the chance, would you like me to take out one of the patrols at range? It might buy you some more time."

Fox glanced at him with his peripheral vision. "Negative. We need to get as close as possible before we take the offensive. I'd say to wait until we're within two hundred paces of the entrance. Well, either then or after they spot us. I'll give the order to fire when the time comes."

Sabre nodded in obedience and slipped his rifle back into its sleeve. As the team neared the base, the light from the external floods continued to increase. The terrain beneath their feet sloped upwards for several hundred feet, after which it leveled out and revealed the west entrance two hundred yards downhill from their location. The concrete blast door itself jutted out from a rocky outcropping and seemed to be built into the side of a small mountain. From their angle, they could not see the two door guards, but they knew that Yana and Reinhold had them in their sights.

A snow-covered helipad occupied the area in front of the door, along with several small warehouses that dotted the immediate vicinity. No vehicles rested outside, although as the scouts had mentioned, two armed soldiers milled about the area. Neither of the two seemed particularly interested in their tasks, which was understandable considering the miserable state of the weather. Similar to the appearance of Silverhurst, the entire area sported a forested perimeter that partially hid the artificial constructs from wandering eyes.

Motioning for the team to stop at the top of the hill overlooking the base, he turned to Sabre and whispered, "You've got the best gun for this. You take one, and I'll take the other. Fire on my word."

Sabre grunted his approval and readied his rifle while Fox contacted the scouts and stated, "We're in position two hundred yards out and are ready to fire. Give us a maximum of ten seconds before you take down the door guards."

"Copy that," Reinhold replied.

Lining up his sights, Fox focused on the closer of the two guards, who had wandered within one hundred fifty yards of his location. Assuming that Sabre would pick the more distant target, he placed his finger on the trigger and whispered, "Fire on 3. One, two, three."

Two thunderous reverberations from the pair of rifles shattered the tranquil silence in the northern Macbeth wilderness. The two sentries panicked at the sudden noise, but could not react in time to avoid the two expertly-placed bullets which struck them in the skull and the chest, respectively. A mere second afterwards, two bright red laser bursts sliced through the air and claimed the lives of the guards standing by the blast door.

"Go! Move up!" Fox yelled. "Take any ID cards you can find off of those guys! We're going to need them to get into the restricted areas inside the base!"

The team broke into a sprint, kicking snow into the air with their boots as they hurried towards the base entrance. Slippy struggled to keep up, but he still managed to force his uncooperative body to obey his mind's commands. _"Once we get into the base, this problem will be over," _he thought. _"They'd better have a heater in there, or else…"_

Stepping out of the snow and onto the lightly-coated asphalt in front of the entry door, the team along with Sabre took a moment to observe the heavy steel blast panel that marked their only known access point to the clandestine mountain base. While Falco, Miyu, and Sabre sidled up to the door and its accompanying touchpad authorization system, Fox and Fara ripped the ID cards out of the dead door guards' pockets, with Fara storing hers in her coat and Fox swiping his over the touchpad's electronic access interface.

Recognizing Fox's card, the door shot upwards and revealed a dark corridor that looked to be more than two hundred meters in length. Although several wall-mounted lights hung from the sides of the hallway, none of them were on. Only a series of ancient ceiling tubes provided any sort of illumination, and it only amounted to a dirty, dark yellow hue that cast a despairing light on the corridor ahead of them. Numerous hallways intersected with the main one, adding to the difficulty of the task that lay ahead of them. In addition, the distant sound of a waterfall reached the team's ears. Fox shrugged it off as unimportant, electing to keep his focus on any noises created by personnel inside the base.

"Get your weapons ready, team," he whispered. "Alright – we need to check every room. The weapon has to be in this base. I don't like doing this, but for time reasons, we need to split up. Sabre, I'm going to leave this up to you. You can go off on your own if you'd like, or you can follow us. Take your pick."

Sabre curled his lip before replying, "I'll come with you and your wife."

"It's settled then. Let's move up. Scour every room that you can. Fara, give Falco your ID card so they'll be able to get into the restricted areas."

"Sure thing, Fox," the fennec replied, tossing the small, plastic card to Falco, who snatched it out of the air and slid it into his pants pocket.

Fox took a long, hard look at the corridor and ordered, "Falco, Miyu, and Slippy, take the left. We'll check the rooms on the right. Keep going until we get to the end of the hallway, and watch out for any guards in here. I'm honestly surprised that no one's onto us yet. Seems suspicious…"

"Well, it is a remote underground base in the middle of nowhere. It's not like you'd expect to find very many people in here," Miyu remarked.

"Fair point," Fox replied. "It can't help to be careful, though." Taking a deep breath, he checked his weapon and began the long trip down the hall. Every door would have to be checked; and for all he knew, a possible trap awaited him behind every single one of them. Upon reaching the first door on his right, he grasped its rusty handle and forced it open to reveal an abandoned computer room with equipment so outdated that it likely wouldn't be capable of running the standard OS of a computer from the Lylat War era.

Stepping back into the hallway, he glanced at Fara and frowned at the knowledge that several hours of tedious searching lay ahead, coupled with the need to be on the constant watch for enemies. On the other side of the main hallway, Miyu, Falco, and Slippy found themselves in a similar situation. In a timeframe of fifteen minutes, more than thirty doors swung open and then closed, with the team finding nothing resembling a weapon or the source of the strange energy reading that Supervisor Ling had sent them to Macbeth to investigate.

Eventually, they reached the end of the hall, which branched off into separate hallways built at 45 degree angles relative to the main corridor. As opposed to the narrow, cramped hallway that they had come through, the two offshoots appeared far larger and wider, with ceilings nearing twenty feet in terms of height and floors approaching fifteen feet in width.

With a quick huff, Falco tentatively said, "I guess we need to split up for real this time."

Fox looked down the hallway to the right and nodded. "Yeah. I know it goes without saying for you to keep your guard up."

"You hear that, Slippy? Don't let your guard down. You seem to like doing that," the avian chided. "You remember Titania during the Lylat Wars, right?"

"Falco, shut your beak! I'm done hearing about that!" Slippy yelled, although he deliberately kept his voice down as much as possible to avoid attracting any unwanted attention to the team and himself. "It was an honest mistake – I looked down for just a second to check my shield reading, and then BAM!"

"Of course," Falco chuckled, tapping his foot on the ground.

Flattening her ears, Fara growled, "Guys – now is not the time for this. Cut it out now. We've got a job to do here."

Falco curled the corner of his beak in response and began moving down the left of the two hallways with Slippy and Miyu close behind him. While the trio set to work checking a nearby door that required Fara's stolen ID card to access, Fox, Fara, and Sabre stepped into the hallway to the right, which sported newer, modern ceiling lights and fresh silver wall paint that suggested a higher priority than the area they had entered from the outside. In addition, nearly all the doors on both sides of the hall required the use of Fox's ID card. As a result, progress was tedious at best. Knowing that the rooms in the more advanced portion of the base were more likely to contain the purpose of their objective, Fox and Fara scoured the rooms for any possible clues related a weapon of any kind. However, nothing of the sort caught their eyes. If anything, the modern area inside the base looked more like a research facility than a military installment.

At the same time, Sabre's countenance gradually grew more concerned. Noticing his companion's visage, Fox leaned against a wall and asked him, "What's the matter, Sabre?"

With a hoarse whisper, he replied, "We're close…I can feel her presence nearby. She's in one of these rooms – I'm sure of it."

"Stay calm. We'll help you rescue her," Fox assured him.

Ahead of the vulpine trio, a hallway opened up to the left at a ninety degree angle. Although unable to see what lay behind the corner, Fox thought nothing of it and continued forwards. Clutching his ID card, he stepped across the hallway and approached a heavy steel door marked 'Lab 4'. He reached towards the ID pad to swipe the card, but before he could make another move, Sabre shouted, "Fox! Get down!"

On reflex, Fox hit the deck a fraction of a second before a red plasma blast struck the door where his head would have been a moment earlier. Before he could get back on his feet and take stock of the situation, he heard the earsplitting sound of Fara's assault rifle as she unloaded multiple rounds into the squad of soldiers that had been lying in wait behind the corner. Two of them fell immediately, but after burning through her first magazine, the fennec jumped behind a large hallway support near a door that read 'Lab 3' in yellow print and shoved a fresh mag into her rifle.

Pulling back the slide and releasing it to complete the reload, she leaned out from behind her cover in time to hear multiple ear-piercing screams of unspeakable pain. Upon realizing the source of the howls, she let out a shocked cry and forced herself to defy her gag reflex. In the center of the hallway stood Sabre, brandishing his blood-soaked sword with a pool of crimson at his feet. The bodies of the five other soldiers lay scattered on the floor in numerous pieces that Fara tried her best not to look at.

Sheathing his katana, Sabre turned to face Fox and Fara, who cringed at the appearance of his bloodstained cloak and facial fur. Wide-eyed with shock, she gasped, "You…you monster!"

"What? They _are_ the enemy, you know," Sabre returned.

"I know, but did you have to cut them into pieces? That's so disgusting that it makes me wonder about you. Look! You're not even sorry about it!"

"You're right – I'm not," Sabre replied.

From across the hall, Fox grinned and remarked, "Actually, that might have been the most badass thing I've ever seen. I want to see you do that again."

"You'll get the chance if any more of these idiots decide to show up," Sabre muttered.

While the vulpine looked over the corpses of the enemy soldiers, Fox turned towards Fara and explained, "I'll open this door and then toss my card to you. You do the same thing and then give it to Sabre. I think this'll make things quicker."

"O…Okay Fox," Fara mumbled, trying to erase the mental imagery of Sabre eviscerating the squad of Venomian soldiers.

A moment later, the door in front of Fox slid open. Tossing his wife his ID card, he ordered, "Make sure you go over everything in these rooms. If this area was important enough for them to station guards in it, there's got to be something worth protecting around here somewhere."

Fara snatched the card out of the air and nodded in response to Fox, who stepped into Lab 4 with his rifle held in preparation for any threats inside the room.

"_We weren't exactly subtle about checking these rooms. If there are more enemies in this base, they definitely heard that last bit. I thought I heard gunfire coming from Falco's direction, too. Still, it doesn't seem like there's much going on in here. Like Miyu said, it _is_ a remote underground base in the middle of nowhere."_

His boots quietly clapped against the concrete floor as he stepped into the center of the gray-painted lab, scanning the perimeter of the room with his rifle. Along the walls, numerous computer monitors sat on several long desks, along with a smattering of electronic data storage units that all seemed to be powered off. Wires hung in bundles from the high ceiling above him, and the overall air of the room suggested that it had been hurriedly evacuated.

However, what attracted Fox's attention the most were two large devices along the wall near the position of the exit door. Each of them rolled on four small castor wheels similar to those of a medical cart, but nothing else about their appearances registered in Fox's memory. The devices measured seven feet in length and three feet in height, with curved, streamlined, opaque domes covering their top halves. The device closest to the right wall looked deactivated, but the one closest to the door glowed with an eerie green light that radiated from trim lights that followed its contours.

Fox stepped closer to the machine and noticed two fluid lines running out of the back and into the wall behind it. Along the side near the top of the dome, a singular red button blinked as if it was simply begging to be pushed.

"_Could this be the weapon that we're looking for? Why is this one on when everything else in here is powered off? I really want to know what this button does, but I probably shouldn't press it. What if it's a bomb? No – it's the wrong shape for that. I honestly have no clue what this thing is supposed to do. It kind of looks like it a medical device, but I've never seen anything like this before. Well… I'm not going to find out anything else about it unless I press the button, so here goes…"_

Reaching out his hand, he tentatively pushed the red button. Immediately, the device's trim lights changed from pale green to white as the sound of draining fluids filled the air. The rush of liquid continued for nearly half a minute before all noise ceased. Then, the top half of the machine separated from the base and began to lift up in a similar fashion to how a fighter canopy would. Not knowing what to expect, Fox took a step back and pointed his weapon at the device as it finished opening and then promptly shut off.

He hadn't known what to expect when he pressed the button, but when he realized what lay inside the machine, he nearly dropped his rifle. As he stood transfixed at what he saw in front of him, a white vixen with white, shoulder-length hair climbed out of the machine, dripping wet and naked from head to toe. Before Fox could react to the situation, she yelped and lunged at him, throwing her arms around him and smothering him with affection.

"Fox! You're here! I thought I'd seen the last of you!" she sobbed, shedding tears of joy that Fox failed to understand.

He tried to free himself from the foreign vixen's tenacious grip, but to his dismay, she refused to let go of him. While she continued to cry, he bared his teeth and yelled, "What do you think you're doing? I don't even know you!"

"F…Fox? What do you mean? I'm your wife," the vixen whimpered.

At that moment, Fara stepped into the lab after checking the room across the hall and finding nothing. She thought she had heard voices from inside the room, but when she locked eyes with the white vixen who had a death grip on Fox, she barked, "Hey! Get your disgusting hands off my husband before I put a bullet through your skull! Put some clothes on while you're at it too, you slut!"

"What? Why is this happening?" the vixen sobbed, releasing Fox from her arms and stepping backwards with a dejected expression on her delicate white muzzle.

Turning to Fox, Fara demanded, "What the hell was that all about?"

Fox threw his hands up and explained, "Hey – I didn't do anything. She was the one who attacked me here."

"I don't know. You seemed to be enjoying that when I came in," the fennec implied.

"That's a damn lie, Fara," Fox snarled, attempting to justify himself by force of emotion.

"Well then, who is she? Where did you find her?"

Fox pointed to the deactivated machine near the door and answered, "I have no idea who she is, but they had been keeping her in there. Looks like they used some kind of breathable liquid to keep her in a near-coma for some reason that I'm not sure about right now."

Crossing her arms, Fara glared at the white vixen, who by this point had realized that she was naked and had seated herself on the floor with her legs crossed and her hands covering her breasts. "You've got some explaining to do, sweetheart," Fara growled. "Who are you and what did you think you were going to be doing with my Fox?"

The vixen sobbed and gazed at the floor near her feet, unable to look into Fara's fiery green eyes. "Fox is _my_ husband," she mumbled.

Fara's oversized ears shot up. "What did you just say?!"

"I said that Fox is my husband."

It was all that Fara could do to restrain herself from kicking the white vixen out of sheer anger. Baring her teeth and trying to avoid salivating in rage, she pointed at her and snapped, "I don't know what kind of drugs they put you on, but you're out of your mind! I've known Fox since high school and been married to him for five years; and I've never heard him mention anything about you or anyone like you! Get a grip!"

"Please – there must have been a misunderstanding between us," the vixen pleaded.

"Oh yeah, there's been a misunderstanding all right!" Fara snarled, "You're the one who's not understanding reality right now!"

While Fara continued to chew out the still-unnamed white vixen, Fox glanced over his shoulder and noticed Sabre stranding in the doorway with a confused, dismayed expression. As quietly as possible, he asked the swordsman, "Is this your stepsister?"

Sabre vehemently shook his head. "No. I've never met her in my life. This is some kind of mistake. I thought I felt my stepsister's thought patterns around here, but they must have belonged to this woman you found. Does this mean…that I spent five years for _this_?"

Fox gave no response, leading Sabre to approach the confused and humiliated white vixen and ask her, "What's your name?"

"Krystal," she replied.

Upon hearing the name, he snarled in rage, drew his sword, and sliced two of the computer monitors near the back of the room into pieces before he stormed out of the lab, still seething with anger.

"That was strange," Fox whispered to Fara.

"I'll have to ask him about that. Somehow, I think Krystal was his stepsister's name. He realizes that all this time, he's been following a false lead that led him to a person he's never met before," Fara replied. "What are we going to do with her, anyway? We can't bring her back to Silverhurst. She'll die from the cold if we can't find any winter clothes for her, and I don't know if I want to bring her up to the _Great Fox, _considering that she doesn't seem to have any kind of grip on reality and could be dangerous if she really thinks that you're supposed to be her husband."

Fox nodded in agreement. "You're right, but I don't want to just leave her here. Wait – I have an idea."

"What's that?" asked Fara, tilting her ears in Fox's direction.

"Slippy hasn't been doing too well in the weather outside, so I suggest that we leave him here with Krystal – if that's really her name – and have him ask her some questions while we head back to Silverhurst and get the transport, which we'll bring back here. Then, we'll pick up Slippy and Krystal, if she seems stable enough when we get back."

"I like it," said Fara. "It makes me feel a lot less concerned for Slippy. I thought he was going to drop dead out there earlier. Whose idea was it bring him along, anyway?"

"Actually, it was his own idea, although he regretted it the instant we landed on the planet," Fox replied.

Fara shook her head and grumbled, "You would have thought he'd have known better."

"He can be like that sometimes. Anyway, I'll get him over here and explain the plan to the rest of the team. While we're at it, I guess we can report the mission to Supervisor Ling as being completed. Strange – I really expected to find a legitimate threat here."

"So did I," Fara agreed. "Still, why would they leave this base mostly empty and then leave _her_ here for us to find?"

Crossing his arms, Fox answered, "I don't know. But I know we'll have more information about her when we get back. If you remember, Slippy's done this kind of thing a few times before. He's got a weird knack for it that he really shouldn't have."

"Slippy the interrogator? I can't picture that," Fara murmured.

"Well, it's not an interrogation per se, but you get the idea. I'll bring him over here and explain everything to him. Then, we'll get out of here. It's going to be a long way back to the transport, but I really want to get out of this place as quickly as possible."

"Right with you, Fox."

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

_In response to Tsunderen: There's a reason why Fay isn't on the team in this story, and it will be pointed out at a later time. Thanks for the review, by the way. Reviews from guests mean just as much to me as reviews from members, so if there's something any of you would like to comment on, go ahead and say it. Maybe it'll boost the review count and make it look like at least a few people care about this story. I'm telling you, after finishing The Oasis with 20,000+ views, it's downright depressing having five chapters up on this story and it not even breaking 750. (Cynic mode activated) I guess that's okay, though. I didn't exactly expect miracles from this story, considering that it violates the rule that says all successful stories must ship the Fox/Krystal pairing or be consigned to the SF Fanfiction archive's proverbial dustbin.  
_

_Anyhow, I'll try to respond to guest reviews in the author's notes for the chapter after the one the review was written for - within reason, of course.  
_


	6. Questions

❺ **Questions **❺

With caution, Slippy stepped through the opened steel door into Lab 4, where Fox, Sabre, and Fara awaited him. Falco and Miyu walked beside him, wondering how Fox's discovery would impact their next decision. Stopping next to where Fox stood, he noticed the white-furred vixen seated on the floor in front of a deactivated machine that he recognized from a schematic stolen from Venomian authorities three years prior to the present date. A thin sheet of fabric covered her body to provide her with at least a semblance of decency, but shame and misery still riddled her persona. Although her sapphire-colored eyes were opened, she never looked up from the floor next to her.

"What's the plan, Fox?" asked Slippy. "Is there something you wanted me for?"

Fox crossed his arms and replied, "Yes. We're going to head back to the transport, but I don't want you to have to suffer through the weather again. It's going to be even colder than it was earlier, so I'm ordering you to stay here with Krystal while the rest of us get the transport. We'll fly it back out here to pick you up after we reach Silverhurst."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Slippy's face. "Sounds good to me. Thanks for keeping me out of the weather, by the way. I'm really sorry that I even bothered to come to begin with. Is there anything else you wanted me to do while I wait for you guys?"

Scratching the back of his head, Fox explained, "If you can, I'd like you to ask Miss Krystal here some questions."

"What kind of questions?"

The vulpine took a quick glance at the white fox and replied, "Well, it's kind of hard to explain, but she thinks she's my wife. She recognized me the instant I freed her, and to be honest, it's scaring me because I've never met her in my entire life."

Slippy brought his hand to his lips and stroked his face. "That's strange… You know, I wonder if she might have been part of an experiment. I recognize this machine here. If I remember, it was designed to keep test subjects suspended in a hallucinogenic fluid that would make them more susceptible to 'persuasion' from outside sources."

"Mind control," Fox muttered. "That's got to be it. It's obvious that you're the man for the job, so I'm leaving you with the task of finding out more about what's going on here. We'll leave you alone to do your thing in just a minute. I'd say that we'll be back in about eight hours."

Visibly nervous, Slippy raised his hand and asked, "Um…I'm not sure it's safe here. What if more guards show up?"

Before Fox could reply, Sabre, who had been leaning against the back wall, spoke up. "I'll stay here with you. I'd like to have a word with her as well."

"That solves that problem," said Fox, glancing at the rest of the team, who stood near the doorway. "Alright, we're out of here. Good luck, Slippy."

"Yeah, thanks. Try not to die on the way back," the amphibian suggested.

Fox shook his head and marshalled the rest of Star Fox out of the room, leaving only Slippy, Sabre, and Krystal in the lab. Once the rest of his team had left the room without any signs of returning, Slippy looked over his shoulder and asked, "Can you lock the door, Sabre?"

Sabre nodded and approached the door before pressing two buttons and sealing it from the inside. Spotting a small office chair nearby, he wheeled it into the back of the room and removed his outer clothes to make himself more comfortable. The temperature inside registered at around twenty degrees Celsius, making his heavy winter attire unnecessary. While he sat down in the chair, Slippy snatched up a clipboard and a blue ink pen from a nearby desk and stepped in front of Krystal.

"Hello, Slippy," the vixen whispered, still refusing to make eye contact with him.

Hearing her using his name made him uneasy, but he resolved to maintain his confident demeanor. Stepping in front of her, he explained, "Fox wants to know more about you, so I'm going to ask you some questions. Can you handle that?"

"I think so."

Taking a deep breath, Slippy tapped his pen on his chin and then asked, "Alright, first question: How do you know Fox?"

For the first time, the vixen glanced up at him, revealing the haunting depths of her blue eyes. "I've been married to him for over five years. He rescued me on Sauria when I was nineteen, and I've been in love with him ever since he made me a member of Star Fox."

Slippy's eyes widened in shock, but he restrained himself and maintained his composure. "Right. Of course."

"I'm not bluffing, Slippy," Krystal emphasized.

"In _your_ mind, you're not," the frog replied. "Anyway, question two: Where are you from?"

At this question, Krystal cringed and tensed up as the memory of her homeworld's destruction returned to her mind. Looking like she was on the verge of breaking into tears, she answered, "I'm from Cerinia. It was a planet outside the Lylat System that was destroyed by Andross eight years ago. If you want me to tell you where it was, I can't. I'm sorry – I really wanted to find it, too."

Gripping his pen, Slippy began writing down Krystal's answers. _"Cerinia? I've never heard of that planet. I guess I could ask Peppy if he's ever come across anything like that. Then again, I've studied the star map for all it's worth and unless this planet is outside the galaxy itself or on the very edge of it, she must be answering from a twisted memory."_

"My memory is just fine," Krystal growled, causing Slippy to drop his pen on the ground.

"Wha…? How did you know what I was thinking? Are you…?"

"A telepath? Yes, I am," Krystal replied. "It's an ability all my people have."

After retrieving his pen, Slippy proceeded to write "Note: Has telepathic abilities" on his clipboard. The longer he looked at her, the more her presence bothered him. Her inexplicable knowledge of both him and Star Fox in general perturbed him to the point of visible agitation; but as his frustration grew, so did his ideas for additional questions. Smiling in a mildly devious manner, he glared at Krystal and asked, "Who was on your version of the Star Fox team?"

Krystal appeared to be perturbed by Slippy's mention of 'her version' of the team; but still, she replied, "It was me, Fox, you, and Falco. Peppy stayed with the team until after the Aparoid War, when he became the general of the Cornerian Defense Forces."

"_The general? That's a step up," _Slippy thought, scribbling down additional notes. _"I'll have to mention this to him." _Clipping his pen to his clipboard, he presented his fourth question. "Alright, I'm finished with the basics. Let's see how you handle the more technical questions." From Sabre's point of view in the back of the room, the frog seemed to radiate an air of excitement that he hadn't exhibited before. "First off, what's the model of the fighter we use in Star Fox?"

"Which model? The current one, or the one we used during the Aparoid invasion?" Krystal inquired.

"The current one. What's the model number for it?"

Krystal brought her hand to her muzzle and stroked it before she replied, "They're SFX Arwing II models, built by the Space Dynamics Corporation – at least, that's what they're based on."

"Not bad," Slippy mumbled, writing down her answer. "Now, what nickname did Falco give his?"

"He called it the Sky Claw," the vixen replied."

Slippy scratched down her answer with a look of delight on his face, as is he knew something about her answer that she did not. "Hmm…alright. Who are the current members of Star Wolf?"

"Wolf O'Donnell, Leon Powalski, and Panther Caroso."

"_Interesting…she missed Algy," _Slippy observed. With his preliminary questions completed, he turned away from Krystal and paused for a moment to think over his next group of questions. Then, he rotated on his heels and said, "I've known Fox since I was a kid, so we'll see how well you know your 'husband'. First question: What was Fox's father's name?"

"James," Krystal replied. "I'm certain about that."

"_She used his middle name? That's interesting."_ After taking a momentary pause to write down Krystal's answer, he asked, "How did James die, then?"

Krystal frowned, not knowing much about the details of the day that impacted Fox the same way that the destruction of Cerinia affected her. "I don't know exactly what happened, but the simple answer is that Pigma turned on him and shot him down over Venom. Andross's men killed him after that."

"_That's not right, either. This is starting to get interesting," _thought Slippy. For a moment, he glanced at the ceiling before he conjured up another question, which he promptly presented to Krystal. "What was the one thing Fox was afraid of not being able to do before he died?"

Krystal replied, "I'm pretty sure it was having children. He was always afraid that something would happen to me or him before that."

"Nope. Close, but no cigar," Slippy shot back. "If you want to know the right answer, it was 'bang Fara Phoenix,' which he eventually managed to do.

Krystal frowned but said nothing in return. Although she felt that she was being taken advantage of by Slippy, she elected to play along with his game until he finished. _"There has to be some kind of mistake here," _she thought to herself. "_I know I'm right, but it's like everything I'm saying is wrong to him for some reason. I just don't understand it!"_

Before giving out the next question, Slippy chuckled and then asked, "So, for Fox, is it boxers or briefs?"

"Excuse me, but what kind of question is that?" Krystal barked, showing her teeth.

Slippy pointed his pen at her and replied, "It's a legitimate question. What's the answer?"

"If you must know, it's briefs," she growled under her breath.

"Wrong again."

Furious, Krystal stood up, nearly dropping her sheet and exposing herself. "What do you mean, 'wrong again?!' I've lived with him for years and know all about things like that!"

Taking a step back, Slippy pondered one final question – a question that he believed would determine Krystal's legitimacy – or lack of legitimacy – not only to himself, but to her as well. _"Hmm…What's one thing that only Fox would know? If she really claims to know all about him, she should be able to answer this. It can't be an objective question, either. It has to be something that no one would ever have on record."_

Tapping his pen on the fingers of his left hand, Slippy faced the unhappy vixen and asked her, "What were the last words that Fox's father said to him?"

In response to the question, Krystal bit her lip and turned to the side, avoiding eye contact with Slippy and lowering her head to her chest. "I don't know," she whimpered. "How could anyone know that? Do you know?"

Slippy nodded.

"What? How is this possible? Does that mean…that everything about me is a lie?"

Slippy took a step back, unsure of whether to confirm her fears or to make a flimsy attempt at consoling her. However, his logical side overpowered his emotions. With a frown indicating that he felt no pleasure in explaining Krystal's reality to her, he replied, "That's what it looks like. I'm sorry, but so many of your answers were wrong that there's no way what you've been saying is true."

In response, Krystal's eyes began to fill with tears. All in one moment, she felt meaningless, betrayed, and most of all, unloved. She knew everything there was to know about Slippy, but he knew nothing about her except for an educated assumption that she was the victim of a Venomian mental experiment. At the same time, she wondered about Fox. Her time spent with him had felt all too real for her relationship to have been a fraud all along. Even her own fur seemed to confirm that something was wrong with her perception of the past. While her pelt had previously been a deep blue color, in what Star Fox believed was the 'real world', it took on an icy shade of white that sickened her to look at. This was not because it made her unattractive, but because she knew that despite her own refusal to admit it, it was the color of fur that she had been born with in the world that she knew next to nothing about.

Recognizing that he had done enough damage, Slippy glanced over his shoulder at Sabre and backed away from Krystal while telling the orange vulpine, "If you want to talk to her, go ahead. I'm finished here."

Sabre nodded and rolled his chair forwards until only five feet separated the two of them. Krystal, still standing and holding her sheet in front of her otherwise naked body, looked into Sabre's eyes and recognized the burning anger and frustration that raged inside of him. She felt like she was supposed to recognize him, but nothing about him brought anything to her mind apart from his slight resemblance to Fox. However, Sabre's fur seemed slightly darker than Fox's, while his frame stood out as being slightly taller and noticeably more muscular than his counterpart's. Considering that Fox was in peak physical form, this was saying something.

With a dark, raspy voice, he asked Krystal, "Do you know who I am?"

Krystal shook her head, hoping that her answer would not provoke him to violence. "No," she whimpered. "I feel like I'm supposed to, but I don't know who you are."

Sabre clenched his right fist and gritted his teeth. For several seconds, he said nothing; but after the momentary pause, he rose from his seat and approached Krystal until only a foot separated them. The vixen felt her heartbeat increasing as the vulpine moved closer to her; and she nearly screamed when he grazed her arm with his finger and plucked one of her hairs. Krystal yelped in response to his action while he held the white hair between his thumb and index finger and studied it.

"_Her fur must be naturally white, because there's not a trace of blue anywhere in this," _he thought to himself. _"What does this mean?"_

Returning his attention to the nervous vixen in front of him, he asked her, "Do you remember your father and mother?"

Krystal brought her hand to her muzzle, attempting to dig into her memory banks to retrieve the answer. However, nothing related to her ancestors came to her mind – only the chaos from her final moments on Cerinia, preceded by a brief, blurry image of a white vixen standing over her.

With a look of desperation in her eyes, she pleaded, "I'm sorry! I really don't know! Please don't hurt me!"

"What would make you think that I'm going to hurt you?" Sabre rasped.

"Your anger – I can feel it in my mind. You're about to snap," the vixen explained.

Sabre's eyes widened. Although he had noted Slippy's analysis of her mild telepathic abilities, he failed to realize the scope of their power. Turning to the side, he mumbled, "You're right. I'm sorry…it's just that…"

"…You thought I might somehow be your stepsister, who you have an unnatural obsession with," Krystal interrupted.

Sabre could have caught fire by merit of his anger alone. It was all he could do to prevent himself from shoving the white vixen to the ground in rage. Balling up both his fists, he snapped, "Do you have a problem with that?"

"N…No," Krystal lied.

"Good," Sabre growled. "I've spent the last five years of my life looking for her, and instead of finding her, I find someone with her name who insists on smart-mouthing me. Why can't everyone just accept it? We're not related by blood, so it shouldn't matter what I think about her."

"Your sister was named Krystal, too?" the vixen asked, surprised at the information. "What did she look like?"

Still holding back his anger, Sabre replied, "She had the most luscious blue fur I've ever seen in my life, and her tail was so long and soft that she could wrap it around herself and use it as a pillow. She was the same height as you are, too. Not quite as thin, though."

Krystal gasped. In her mind, Sabre's description of his stepsister called to mind her former appearance, especially her plush tail and blue fur that could have rivaled a sapphire in terms of color depth. Despite her knowledge of the facts, she refused to comment on Sabre's sister's appearance. _"Am I the person he's been looking for? Oh, I hope not. He terrifies me. It's like he keeps the anger of five people bottled up inside himself, just waiting for someone to make him angry so he can release it on them."_

Unfortunately for Krystal, Sabre noticed her expression of emotion, which she could not hide. "What was that for? Is there something I need to know that you're not telling me?"

Krystal clenched her teeth and held onto her sheet even more tightly than before. "Will you promise not to get angry if I tell you?"

Taking notice of the terror exhibited by the white vixen's every move, Sabre relaxed his muscles and glanced at the ground before he looked into Krystal's eyes once again, this time with a considerably more placid disposition. "I really should have waited a few more minutes before I spoke with you," he admitted. "It's not you that I'm angry at – it's the bastards who put you in here. I'm not going to hurt you."

Still visibly nervous, Krystal nodded and explained, "I still don't know where I am or even who I am, but before Fox freed me, my fur was blue. Does that help anything?"

Sabre contorted his mouth and replied, "Yes, but I'm not sure what to do with that. You can't be my stepsister – I know her too well to mistake you for her, even though you don't look all that different apart from the white fur. I have a suspicion about something, but I need to test it before I go any farther." Turning around and locking eyes with Slippy as he sat behind a desk on the back side of the lab, he asked him, "You're the computer expert, right?"

"Well, yeah…" Slippy abashedly replied.

"Do you think you can get into the computer network in here? If you can find out anything about what the purpose of this room is, it would really help."

Slippy studied the computer monitor in front of him and the tower below the desk on the back wall, looking for any information related to its model number, operating system, and date of assembly. After a lengthy pause, he told Sabre, "This looks outdated. I think I might be able to get into this thing. Hang on."

Powering on the desktop, he waited for nearly a minute before the old machine booted up, revealing a silver-backed screen requesting a password. Upon noticing the obstruction, he proceeded to reach into his heavy coat's front pocket. Pulling out a small, thin, red-colored chip, he held it up to the light in the room before he inserted it into an appropriate slot on the front of the computer tower. In response to the presence of Slippy's device, the computer monitor went berserk, flashing warning signs and plunging into a sea of static for a brief moment before the screen returned to normal, this time complete with the system's administrative password.

Slippy turned towards Sabre and grinned as he pressed the enter key, prompting the computer to display the desktop background – the Andross monkey head emblem set over a sheet-metal-themed Sabre scrutinized the screen from across the room, Slippy opened the 'documents' pane and leafed through its various folders, stopping when his cursor came to rest over a manila-colored icon with 'Lab 4' written under it. Upon double-clicking it, the folder opened up into a vast expanse of documents, most with unintelligible alphanumerics passing as titles. However, numerous images appeared in the massive folder.

"Sabre, check this out," said Slippy. "I think I found something."

Perking up his ears out of curiosity, Sabre left Krystal to herself and walked across the lab floor until he stood next to Slippy. As he fixed his eyes on the screen, the amphibian pulled up a grainy, low-resolution photograph of a partially clothed blue vixen being placed into a machine identical to the one Fox had deactivated. Noticing Sabre's fingers twitching on the edge of the desk, Slippy asked him, "Is this the person you were looking for?"

Undoubtedly looking at a picture of his stepsister, he slammed his fist on the desk and growled under his breath, "I knew it. She _was_ here after all. Those maggots must have flown off with her before I could find a way in here. I wonder what that means about the girl in here, then."

From across the room, the white vixen angrily insisted, "I have a name, you know!"

Shaking his head, Sabre muttered, "Telepathy is a bitch. Anyway, I have a theory about what happened here; but I'd like to hear what you think first to see if I'm thinking straight."

"Alright," Slippy replied, "First, the machine Fox freed Krystal from was designed for psychological experiments using heavy sedatives and hallucinogens. I know this because I've seen schematics for these devices before. If you're right and she isn't your stepsister with an altered appearance, I would have to say that she's probably the result of a mental experiment involving your stepsister. Her name was Krystal too, right?"

Sabre grimly nodded his head.

"In that case, it's likely that the scientists tried to transfer the contents of your stepsister's mind to 'Krystal's' mind. I don't know why they would do that, though. It wouldn't do anything other than to prove that they could. This project must have cost several million credits, so there had to have been a reason for this. I guess there's not really much more we can do about it, though. Most of these other documents don't have any important information in them. Looks like the Venomians must have moved or deleted those files before we arrived. Either that, or they were never stored on this computer."

"If they deleted the files, isn't it possible that they _knew_ we were coming?"

"No, it's just…wait a minute." Slippy's eyes widened, and he found himself staring blankly at the wall in front of him as the possibility of what Sabre was suggesting occurred to him. "It would have taken too long for them to delete or transfer all these files after we got into the base. They never would have been able to escape if they had done that, especially if they had to deal with the processing speed of this glacier. But how would they know we were coming? This was a secret operation! No one was supposed to know about this!"

"Well, it looks like somebody did, unless this is all just an unlucky coincidence," Sabre growled. "That is a possibility. Still, why would they delete the important files to such an expensive experiment if this wasn't planned out beforehand? Or maybe they decided to move the information somewhere more secure."

Slippy scratched his face and replied, "I don't think this computer was supposed to be on. Everything else in here is completely shut off – even the wires coming from the backs of those data centers over there look like they've been deliberately sabotaged. That's not normal…"

As Slippy trailed off, Sabre's fingers twitched, accompanied by his ears erecting themselves. "This reeks of a set-up. I…wait a minute!"

Noticing an active security camera above the door, Sabre whipped his handgun out of its holster and fired three shots at it. Two of the rounds found their target, shattering the camera's lens and otherwise destroying the mechanism that housed it. Placing his weapon back into its spot on his belt, he muttered, "I thought I saw that thing move earlier. Dammit – I hope no one in the control center was monitoring that."

"I'm starting to think that it's not safe in here anymore," Slippy nervously opined.

"Same here. How much longer until the rest of the team gets back?"

Letting out a tense, deep breath, Slippy replied, "At least seven more hours; six at the earliest."

Sabre bared his teeth. "Well then, we'll just have to wait it out. Keep your guard up. From what your teammates told me, you're not known for being good at that."

"Don't you start doing that too," Slippy retorted, clenching his lips in frustration. "Maybe you should see if you can get any more information out of Krystal."

Shaking his head, the vulpine whispered, "I'm going to need another name to call her by, because there's no way I'm calling her Krystal." For a moment, he glanced at the ceiling and muttered under his breath, "Krystal, if you're still alive, I promise that I _will_ rescue you. Please, don't give up."

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

_If Krystal's incorrect answer about Fox's father being named James threw you off, that is because Fox and Fara's universe is rooted in the original SNES canon, not the post-64 retconned canon. B__y extension, t_hat would also mean that instead of being betrayed by Pigma, Fox McCloud Sr. flew through Andross's black hole to his assumed death. I know there's more to it than that and that it includes something about the appearance of some kind of space whale, but just try to ignore that for now. After all, it's an AU story. Or is it?

_In response to Northernmegas:_

_The manipulation of Krystal's conscience in _The Oasis_ was also something that bothered me. While I'm pleased with the overall story and the overwhelming amount of fanfare it received, I feel like it could have been much, much better. On another note, I think this chapter answered most - if not all - of the questions you raised in your review. While 'Krystal' is the victim here and should indeed be pitied, she isn't exactly doing herself any favors by claiming to be Fox's wife. Fara is jealous for her husband, so there's no way that can end well._


End file.
